#but not having any food available right now has set off all my alarm bells

[foxfootunderscore]

i hate mental illness

[estrel]

The Christmas Compromise

merry christmas, @lilliankayl !! ‘tis i, your secret santa! this ended up getting a little long, so there will be multiple parts up...soon. here’s the first one, which you will also eventually be able read on ao3 when it’s complete. hope you enjoy!!

Part One.

Dean feels his mouth start to form a lazy smile.

Through the winter chill and the foggy annoyance that his blankets are skewed around him to provide the least amount of heat and warmth, there is a distant recognition that the smell of coffee in the air isn’t just any brew.

Despite the effort to untangle the sheets from his legs and feet, Dean manages to bare his skin to the winter cold of his room, provided the damage to his heater. He makes a mental note to fix that later, after they come back. Dean can last a few days until then.

He can practically see his breath hanging in the air when he yawns, pulling on warmer clothes as quickly as his stiff muscles and numb fingertips will allow him. Sweats, then t-shirt, then hoodie, because he isn’t expected to be anywhere until later and he can always change before that if he needs to.

Better to die comfy than in plaid.

It’s early morning, judging by the darkness outside and Dean’s alarm clock that blinks 5:30 AM at him in white block numbers, but he can’t find it in himself to care that he’s awake to see hell freeze over. Lucky for him, there’s a quick fix to his sleepiness less than twenty feet away.

The socks take entirely too long to fit onto his feet. When they finally do, Dean yanks his door open and pads down the hall, stopping at the entrance to his kitchen.

It’s a modest kitchen—a modest home, really, but it does it’s job—and it’s empty save for an occupied chair at the kitchen table.

Dean stares for a second.

He’s allowed to notice clothes and posture before that second is disrupted by Miracle making a racket coming into the kitchen, and Cas turns to face them.

“Morning,” Dean greets him. The smell of coffee is much stronger here, and Dean can feel his mouth beginning to water.

Cas pushes a full mug towards Dean’s seat.

“Good morning, Dean. I made you—”

“My favorite brew,” Dean finishes for him. He sits, letting his fingers thaw under the ceramic of the mug and breathing in the heavy scent of Cas’ coffee.

“It’s everyone’s favorite brew,” Cas says, taking a sip from his own cup. “That’s why it’s the priciest.”

Dean levels a look at him.

“I have to make money somehow,” Cas defends.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean waves him off, bringing the drink to his lips. The first taste is hot—too hot—and it burns his throat on the way down.

“You never learn,” Cas says. Dean doesn’t need to meet his eyes to know that they’re squinting at him. “You’ve been burning your tongue on my coffee for years, you’d think it’d make an impact by now.”

Dean only frowns and mumbles into his coffee something about “not every time,” to which Cas rolls his eyes.

They can only pretend to be angry with each other for a few more minutes before it subsides into companionable silence. Dean lightly kicks Cas’ foot under the table to get his attention.

“You gonna need a ride to work?”

Cas sets his mug down and shrugs. He’s still in his night clothes: a white t-shirt—Dean has never understood how Cas can stand the cold—and borrowed sweats, but he’ll probably burrow through more of Dean’s wardrobe to get his outfit for today. The guy might as well live here with the amount of time he spends at Dean’s place and the fact that Dean’s closet is practically Cas’, too, now.

I could always just ask him…

Dean swallows the last of his drink and stands before he can contemplate the question again. He busies himself at the sink, and then ducks under the counter to get Miracle’s food from the cabinet.

“Yes,” Cas says eventually, evidently having gone through every other option before arriving at that one. “Is it a bother?”

Dean pokes his head over the counter to look at him.

“No, man, you know I like driving Baby around. Besides, I’ve got some shopping to do, and, y’know…”

“Free breakfast,” Cas adds for him, a teasing note in his voice. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the muffins that go missing every time you drop by.”

Dean sets down Miracle’s food and whistles softly, standing straight once Miracle trots into the room and to his bowl to eat.

“Hey,” he points a finger at Cas, “Consider it a compromise since you never pay for gas.”

“It’s not like I haven’t offered,” Cas meets Dean by the sink to wash his cup out. “Do you want me to pay for gas, Dean?”

He’s standing close in that way that Cas always stands close—in the way that Dean has stopped correcting for years now. That’s just how he is, he reminds himself, and puts visible effort into keeping his eyes trained on Cas’ blue ones.

“No,” he says, “You don’t need to pay for gas. All I’m asking is that you look the other way when I happen to find a cookie just laying there for the taking. Do that, and it’s free rides for life.”

“When you say ‘laying there,’ I assume you mean in the casing, behind the counter, where only employees are allowed,” Cas sasses back, face stripped of emotion except for the slight furrow to his brow. Imperceptible, if it wasn’t Dean that was staring.

“So now I’m an employee?” Dean asks, finally pulling away from their bubble to pretend to clean the counter. “Jee, Cas, you shoulda told me. I would have put my apron on.”

Cas punches him lightly on the shoulder, done with washing his cup but fingers still wet from doing so. It leaves an imprint on Dean’s hoodie, which Dean acts like he hates, but it gives him a motive to attack Cas back.

They scuffle, elbowing each other and pushing each other around the kitchen—Dean even manages to try for a few tickles to Cas’ armpits and stomach, but still to no avail—until Miracle joins in and they stop so as to not accidentally step on a paw.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Cas says, once they’re done with the rough housing. Patting Dean’s back once, he leaves the kitchen and enters Dean’s room down the hall.

Warmer, now, with the extra movement in him, Dean leans against the counter to catch his breath. At least that’s what he tells himself, watching Cas mill around from door to door until he hears the bathroom shut and the shower start.

When Dean is sure that Cas is out of hearing range, he pulls out his phone.

“Bitch,” Dean starts, pressing the cold surface to his ear and cheek.

“Jerk.”

He smiles. “How’s it goin’?”

“Same old, same old. Got a case about to close up here real soon, so. Expect to see me at the Bunker in a few days.”

“You’ll be there,” Dean confirms. “Glad to hear it.”

“And you? Everything good?”

Dean shifts at the accusatory tone in Sam’s voice.

“Yeah, man. All good. Shop’s runnin’ just fine. Bobby says hi.”

A huff of laughter. “He still kickin’ your ass?”

Dean nods, even though Sam can’t see him. “Bobby’s Bobby. You know how he is, never a moment’s rest. Come to think of it, I actually had to remind him that it’s Christmas this week. The guy was asking if I’d be in on Friday. Had to tell him he wouldn’t be in on Friday, crazy bastard.” He hears Sam chuckle. “Oh hey, by the way, I think Rufus is coming with this year.”

“Really? Haven’t seen him since—”

“Yeah, I know. Well, he’ll be there—you can recount the tall tales of Rufus and Sammy to everyone as a Christmas present.”

There’s a pause, and Dean checks to see if the call had cut off before returning his phone to his ear.

“—coming?”

“Sorry, what?”

“Is Cas coming?”

Dean hears the shower shut off. The guy makes quick work.

“I was assuming,” he says.

“Well, you should ask.”

“Why?” Dean scoffs, “It’s pretty much a given, dude, he always comes.”

He can practically feel Sam’s eye roll over the phone.

“What?”

“I dunno, Dean, c’mon. You can’t just expect him to come whenever you call. He’s got his own family, you know, and—”

Dean grimaces, folding an arm over his chest. “No, he doesn’t. We’re his family. Those dickheads are—” He sighs, tries to contain the outburst before it can be unleashed. In…out.

“Trust me, Sam, he doesn’t want to see them. He’ll be at ours on Friday.”

“Dean—”

“Nice talkin’ to you, Sammy. I’ve gotta go, taking Cas to work.”

“Wait, he’s there?! Hang on a second—”

“Bye!”

He cuts the call before he can hear another word out of Sam, and just in time to see Cas in the bathroom doorway. He’s looking at Dean with his head tilted curiously, and Dean’s breath immediately catches in his chest.

“Was that Sam?” he asks. As if his hair isn’t all wet and towel-rustled, as if he isn’t dressed in Dean’s clothes.

“Yeah,” Dean croaks. He clears his throat. “Yeah, yes. He says hi.”

“I’m sorry I missed him,” Cas frowns, making his way over to Dean. Dean stills.

“It’s six,” Cas continues, “I should be at work by seven, if you can manage it.”

When Dean just stares back, Cas adds, “You should get dressed.”

“What’s wrong with this?”

“You’ve been wearing that hoodie for three days straight and you’re beginning to smell like Miracle,” he deadpans. “Go shower, I can wait.”

Dean pushes himself off the counter and brushes past him. “Thanks, Cas. How considerate.”

-

When Dean parks Baby in front of Heaven and Hell Cafe, he does so in his grey henley and several layers of long-sleeves, with jeans that do nothing to combat the cold.

Shivering, he follows Cas inside, and warmth envelops them upon entry, along with the jingle of the door bell.

“Cas!” comes a familiar voice. Dean hears more than sees a set of doors opening, and Jack is suddenly in front of them wearing a huge smile.

“Oh, Dean! Good to see you,” Jack lifts a hand in greeting, but it looks more like he wants a hug. Dean smiles back at him and waves.

“Hey, kiddo. Everything alright?”

Jack nods. “Yes. Although, I…I do need to see Cas for a second.”

“Oh, um. Of course.” Cas glances at Dean with a look that says ‘I’ll be right back,’ and follows Jack through the double doors that lead to the kitchen.

Dean trails after them half-way, stopping behind the counter to sleuth after some morning treats. He decides on what he thinks is a cinnamon roll, pulling it out of the casing and shutting the door as quickly as he’d opened it.

He stuffs the pastry in his hoodie’s pocket for later, and thanks the universe that it’s wrapped and won’t get covered in fuzz this time (he’d learned the hard way).

“—makes sense. Just let me know if anything changes.”

Cas appears through the doors looking slightly stressed. Dean fights to urge to get up and soothe, to run his hands across Cas’ shoulders and ease the tension there.

“You good?” Dean checks instead. Cas nods.

“Fine. Just…It’s fine. Didn’t you say you had shopping to do?”

“Are you kickin’ me out?” he jokes.

“No, but the shop opens in thirty minutes. Feel free to stick around if you’d like.” Cas’ eyes drop to Dean’s crotch area, and he quickly looks down to see what Cas is looking at.

“You can eat that here. No point in hiding it since the gig is up.” Dean lets out a breath. Cas had been staring at the lump in Dean’s hoodie pocket, where Dean was keeping his breakfast. What happened to ‘looking the other way?’

“Thanks, but you’re right, I should probably get going. I’ve gotta do errands and be at the shop later to work for a few hours. You coming over tonight?”

Cas pauses in the middle of putting his apron on, contemplating the question.

“No,” he says slowly. “Not tonight.”

Dean tries not to frown. Suddenly the weight of his phone in his pocket is ten times heavier than it was a few seconds ago. ‘Well, you should ask,’ the little voice inside his head that sounds like Sam, says. He sighs softly.

“How about, um. You’re—you’ll be there on Friday, right? Do you need a ride? I was planning on leaving on Thursday, if you wanted to come with. I know Claire’s heading out earlier. Jody, and all them, too…so.” Dean forces himself to meet Cas’ eyes. Something in his chest feels tight when he notices Cas’ expression has only gotten worse.

“I,” Cas starts, gaze falling to his shoes. “I don’t know, Dean.”

That thing in Dean’s chest solidifies and sinks to his stomach, settling there uncomfortably. 

“Don’t know what?”

Cas starts rummaging through the bakery cases, adjusting things that don’t need to be adjusted, meticulously cleaning crumbs from platters and making sure the little banners with the pastry names on them are all straight and perfect. 

“If I’ll be able to go,” he says finally, not looking up. “It’s the holidays and I’m busy here this season, people have been ordering pastries for Christmas, and I don’t know if I plan to close on Christmas day, because my regulars might want to come in still, and—“

“Cas,” Dean stops him, leaning over the counter. Cas notices and lightly tries to push him off so he can start on the counters, but Dean grabs his wrist to get his attention. 

“You’re going to work yourself to death, man. It’s the holidays. Your regulars will understand if you don’t show up on Christmas, okay? And you’ve never had this issue any other year, so...” Dean makes Cas look at him. “What’s really bothering you?”

to be continued...

-

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[fnf-brain-rot]

We're In This Together [Pico's School AU] Chapter 2 - Donut Rendezvous

Today was the day..

Wednesday..

It was a half day, being the day before a teacher work day. They didn't have school on that Thursday. Teachers had donuts available to them in the break room every Wednesday.

Pico and Darnell have been planning this for months.

They got the whole class on their side, having started a little protest in the cafeteria. "We're tired of adults hogging the sweets to themselves!" They cried out to the other students. "This time we take the sweets for ourselves!"

They were being normal at first, all arriving when the bell rang, sitting in their seats, and listening to the lecture. Most of the students shot each other knowing glances. Pico was the leader of this rendezvous, of course. On his signal, the others would move.

Ten minutes into class now, Bee was curious about the restlessness of the other students, looking around himself, having made eye contact with a few. Right, he's new. Pico had a grand idea. He'd lead in the front with him, like his queen of the army or something. He snickered at the thought, looking down at his blank paper. Right, perfect move. He and Darnell looked to each other, then nodded.

It felt quiet. Too quiet. The seconds ticked by loudly from the clock above them. Usually the teacher that buys the donuts would buy two boxes, which should be enough for two classes to feed each student one time.

Oh, right, the other class was in on it too. This would be big.

Pico stood up from his seat, slowly, as to not alarm the other students. Mrs. Fee's back was turned to the children, the woman mindlessly explaining some math equation and writing on the chalk board. He walked over to Bee, gently grabbing his hand. "Bee-" He almost started, but Pico covered his mouth, as to not alert Mrs. Fee as well. "Follow me.." He whispered. Bee nodded and stood quietly as well. The two shimmied from between the desks, and Pico held up one finger.

One...

Two....

Three...

The cacophony of screeching desks an chairs startled the woman up front, and many children began to yell at the top of their lungs, mostly those also known for causing trouble. A thunderous rumble of feet crossed the floor, and Pico raced for the classroom door, Bee just barely able to keep up with him. He threw the wooden slab open, and bolted out of the classroom, not looking back, but he could hear the monstrous amount of kids following him.

"Beep!! Beep bop!!" Bee cried over the noise, then heard the door next to theirs slam open. The second class took the message, and now raced after the other. Pico could hear Darnell's laughter over the noise as the group of students scattered around down the hall. It was a straight shot to the break room, right down the hall. Their school had no security, all they had to worry about were the teachers.

"What are you kids doing?!" The voice of one of the teachers rang out, muffled by the sound of stomping feet and ecstatic screams. "Scatter!!" Pico yelled out. Some of the taller kids blocked view of Pico, Darnell, and Bee, entering the room in which the donuts resided. Bee stood off to the side, hiding behind the wall as Darnell closed the door behind them. "B-Beep?? Brappity-"

"Yeah, you weren't here for instructions. You see, me and Darnell been planning this for a long time." Pico began to explain it to the shorty, quickly grabbing one of the boxes. Still warm. Nice. "Darnell grab a bag." Darnell saluted and went to look for a plastic bag. They would snag a little under half the donuts exclusively for themselves, being Darnell, Pico, Nene, Gigi, by Nene's begging, and Bee, because Pico said so.

"Bep bop.." Bee breathed out. Pico could damn there hear his heart thumping in his ears. It wasn't over yet. "Darnell, assess the situation." Pico then ordered. Darnell poked his head out the door. "No teachers in sight, sir." He responded. "Good, let's book it." Pico grinned maniacally, Darnell holding the door open for him and Bee.

"Boop bepoo?" Bee pointed at himself, and Pico raised a brow. Their next stop was their secret spot, but they had to go past the main office to get outside, since the doors were chained during the day. "Why did I grab you? Well, cause you would have been left alone in there with Cassandra." Pico gagged as he said her name. the goths wanted no part in it. He didn't care, more donuts for everyone else. "Now come on, there shouldn't be anyone in the office right now." He led the two past the glass room, which as he stated, was devoid of any staff. They most likely went to deal with the kids, which the screams still echoed faintly down the halls.

They scampered past the view of some cameras, then accessed the side door. The empty area behind some trees across the walkway was visible. They were in the home stretch. "Hey, Darnell, carry one of these will ya? My arms are dying." Pico huffed softly, and Darnell snurked. "Whatever you say, sissy." He teased. "Hey, I'm the leader of this whole operation. I ain't no sissy." The ginger shot back, making Bee giggle lightly.

They made it without error to the hiding spot in the trees. Bee fumbled with his hands awkwardly, staring at the bag of donuts Darnell held. Pico laughed a little, setting one of the boxes on top of the other on a tree stump. "Wait just a second there Bee." He walked over, elbowing the smaller's shoulder, who winced a little, but rubbed it with a goofy smile. "Those are the special donuts. We're gonna go heat them up in the lounge." Bee made a face. "During lunch dummy."

"There's a part two to this plan??" Darnell quickly asked. Pico shook his head. "I just know how to get in and out. Me and the janitor are on good terms. I'm close to him letting me into his closet." He nudged the brown boy's arm, and they made their way back into the building.

_______________

"Now, I don't know what's gotten into you kids, but this behavior is unacceptable."

Mrs. Fee had decided to give the kids a lecture after they all returned to their respective classrooms. "The only one who didn't leave was Cassandra, which means the rest of you get workbook homework for the rest of the week." Darnell groaned, but Pico had a shit eating grin on his face, his cheeks flushed in triumph. "Fucking worth it." He muttered, holding his fist out to Darnell. "Yeah, I guess." He responded with quiet laughter, returning the fist bump. the other kids probably thought it was worth it. Hell, Pico controlled the distribution of the donuts. They better think it's worth it or they ain't gettin' shit.

Pico looked over to Bee, who was smiling and kicking his legs a little, fiddling with his pencil. That whole ordeal must have filled him with quite the adrenaline. "Stick with me, and you'll be on top of the food chain dude." He had told him when they were coming back in. Bee didn't seem opposed to the idea, but he still didn't wanna scare him off. They did things like this pretty often. Having the parents Darnell had, usually others had to get involved so just those two, or three, including Nene, wouldn't get in trouble.

After the end of first period, Pico waited for Bee by the door, of course being teased by Nene and Darnell as they left. Bee stumbled a bit as he threw his big bag on his shoulders, walking over to Pico with a big smile on his face. "You like that chaos, huh?" He asked the boy, returning the grin. "Beep boop!" He responded, bouncing on his toes a bit, and they left the room.

"That's just how it is in this school. Of course I'm the instigator, got kind of a reputation. I make my father proud." Pico laughed a little. His ego was inflated as hell considering the dads he has. Well, dad. Steve didn't like to entertain the chaotic nature those two shared. Said he didn't like to lose sleep while those two jousted with frying pans at two AM.

"Bep bop.. Skdoo beep.." Bee muttered softly, a bit of a bitter tone to his voice. "What, your dad doesn't like that kind of mess?" Bee shook his head in response. Must be on closer terms with his mom huh? Yeah, he's lucky he had a dad who didn't suck ass. "Well when lunch rolls around, you can have your donuts, okay?" Pico reminded him to reassure him. He didn't wanna see the sad look on the kid's face. He was too bright to be frowning like that. "We could work on that homework together too, if it'll make you feel better." He then offered him. There it is, that bright smile.

Man this kid was just so precious..

_______________

History was mostly uneventful, save for Bee falling asleep in the middle of writing a sentence. He must have crashed from all the excitement. It was so abrupt that his face banged against the desk, and his head shot back up as he let out a yelp. Pico snurked from beside him, and heard some others begin to laugh as well.

Once the class had ended, Pico made sure he and Boyfriend were the first ones out, so they could run and grab the donuts. Thankfully the boxes were still there, untouched. "Come to papa." Pico rubbed his hands together, and lifted the boxes. he hoped all the glaze didn't melt off, it's hot out here.

They made their way back into the school, walking in through the side door to the cafeteria, where all the students waited eagerly for their treats. Darnell, Nene, and Gigi caught up to them when they saw them enter. "Wow, you actually managed to pull it off. I'm impressed." Gigi commented lightly as they set up the boxes on the end of one of the lunch tables. Pico cleared his throat, his cheeks reddening as he put a hand on his chest. "Well, they don't call me Pico "danger" Neil-Griffiths for no reason."

"literally no one calls you that." Nene snorted. Bee held back a laugh, turning his head away, while Darnell just openly cackled. "Whatever, I like my name." Pico scoffed in response, then opened one of the boxes. He was right to be worried. It's a mess in there. "You sure they'll want these?" Nene asked him, doubt in her voice. Pico waved his hand dismissively. "They're idiot kids, they'll take anything with sugar in it." Bee reached for it, but Pico smacked his hand away. "We get the nice donuts. Darnell?" Said boy held up the large plastic bag of almost half a box of donuts. "You sneaky.." Gigi mumbled, sweating nervously. "That's capitalism for you. Now take the best looking ones outta here, and we'll let them have the rest- quit your yappin', you'll get your turn!" Pico glared at some kids that had gathered around the table, and allowed his buddies to grab whatever ones they wanted. He had a mind to sock one of these greedy children in the face.

He often forgets he's a child himself, but he doesn't associate with these gremlins.

Once each of them were satisfied with what they got, the group began to move to leave out of the cafeteria. Pico stayed behind to whistle, signaling to the others to come get their donuts. And like a pack of starving dogs, the children rushed over, once again, save for the goth kids, who glared at Pico knowingly. the ginger only flipped the bird at them, and ran off with the others.

"What are you guys doing for the half day?" He heard Gigi talking to the others. She and Bee were walking pretty closely. Pico stayed back a bit, narrowing his eyes at the little pit in his stomach. He felt nauseous, or something. He didn't know, but he didn't like it. He didn't linger on it for too long though, noticing Bee glance behind him. "Bep!" He slipped between Nene and Darnell, who looked to see where he was going. They cooed when they saw Bee grab Pico's hand, which made the taller flush exponentially. Geez this guy could pull. He must have been an annoying toddler.

"C'mon man, how are we gettin' in?" Darnell then asked as Pico was brought to the front. Pico laughed to hide how flustered he was, then cleared his throat. Literally everyone, except for Bee, weren't buying it. Oh whatever, he didn't need to convince everybody. "Simple, just walk in." Pico walked over and opened the door. "We're on schedule, so the teachers should be on their way in a little bit. Hurry and throw that in there." The others filed inside, looking around and snooping through drawers. "Nice. Sharp scissors." Nene pulled a pair of scissors out of the metal cabinet, and Bee flopped onto the couch, letting out a content, "Beeeeeeep.." Gigi laughed and sat beside him, causing his face to go red.

Pico forced himself to look away, as to not seem weird.

_______________

As everyone wouldn't shut the hell up about, school ended early. Pico was so ready to leave, he even had a couple spare donuts. He stashed them away in his backpack for safe keeping. "Geez P, how do you understand Bee so well so fast?" Darnell had asked them, the group hanging out in the front of the school. "I dunno, it's like.. telepathic." Pico looked to the blue headed boy in question, who was mindlessly tapping away on his phone a a bit away from them. "Bee, you're sitting in the middle of the staircase, someone can trip over you." Pico pulled him closer, just barely missing some kid who wanted to launch himself off the top stair. Dumbass..

"Bop.." Bee mumbled softly, turning his body to face Pico, then continued what he was doing. Gigi and Nene talked with each other some bit away. He didn't care to listen in, they were probably chatting about girl stuff.

"Hey, who the hell rides a limo?" Darnell grumbled in question, and Gigi's head shot up. The horn from said vehicle honked loudly, and some people stared at it. "God, that's so embarrassing.." Gigi covered her face. "That's mine.."

"What?!"

"Beep?!"

The group had shouted simultaneously, and the red head girl giggled. "What are you, rich??" Darnell questioned her, and she made a nervous sound. "I'll explain some other time. See you guys!" She gripped her backpack and ran off, the group watching as the door opened for her, and she hopped in. It left just as quickly as it came. "Huh.." Darnel murmured thoughtfully. "New objective. Find out if Gigi is rich." Pico joked lightly, and Nene scoffed.

"Knock it off. You've done enough today." She went and sat with the three. "Hey Bee, you wanna hang out with us today? We always stop at this playground on the way home." Pico then offered. Bee hummed in thought, but paused when he noticed Pico give him the puppy eyes. He giggled, then held up his phone. "Bee bo bop." He responded. "Is that.. a yes?" Nene questioned. "He'll text his mom." Pico answered for her, standing up from his spot. "Wizard." Darnell mumbled, and followed suit.

Thankfully Bee was able to go. Pico thought he would have to rant to his dad about mean parents.

_______________

Pico wanted to do everything and absolutely nothing all at once.

He sat in his favorite spot near the slide, Bee sitting beside him. "Behp beppo." He muttered nervously, and Pico scoffed. "We steal the playground every day, those kids should know better by now." He huffed.  Bee went quiet after a moment, and Pico looked up to him staring at him. His cheeks flushed red. "Uh.. What?" He then asked. The boy only responded quietly with "Hm?" as if he were spacing out. Pico clicked his tongue and looked away again. "Hey, you got your mic, right?" He then asked. Bee popped out of his trance almost immediately, and nodded excitedly. He reached into his back pocket and pulled it out. "Bee-dep?" He then asked the other, and he nodded, a light smile on his face.

Bee seemed ecstatic to sing for him again, and so he did, gaining Nene and Darnell's attention as well over some time. Just like at P.E, they listened to him sing for quite some time. It was calming, Pico would argue he enjoyed it the most.

"You know, you should hang at my place sometime. I got games and stuff." Pico offered, about an hour after Bee's little jam session. "Beep?" He turned to look at him. leaning against the bars of the playground structure. "I mean, I live with Darnell when my dads go off in the army. Oh, you get to meet my dads sometime! They're cool. I'll be completely honest, one of them will tease you for speaking in bee-bops." He then snickered lightly at the thought.

"Baps?" Bee tilted his head, holding up a two with his fingers. "Yeah, technically, I call them both dad. They're real close, but they're not married or in a relationship or anything." Pico then hummed softly. Sure they also sleep in the same bed when they're at home, but that's just because it's more comfortable than bunkers out where they are.

Bee hummed in thought, then nodded. Cool. It's a date.

Yes, he meant to think that.

It's a date.

Pico's mind swirled with thoughts of what he could do when they met up again. He pulled one of the donuts out of his back pack. It was a little mushed, but still good. He ate at it slowly, wanting to savor the taste. He could eat cold donuts, they were fine. He caught Bee staring at him again, then raised a brow. "What? What's up?" He then asked, his voice muffled with food. Bee's cheeks flushed, and he pointed at the donut. "Oh.. I can give you a piece." Pico looked down and tore off a piece of the treat, handing it to Bee, who took it thankfully. He popped the entire piece in his mouth, a happy "mmmmffff" emitting from his throat. Pico laughed a little. "You like donuts, huh?" He teased him, and Bee curled up a bit, still chewing away happily so he could get every little bit.

Pico spent the rest of that afternoon with the three. Darnell and Nene definitely understood Bee a little bit more after today.

Even if it is just a little bit.

[technicallydeliciouspainter]

How we got duped into cooking with gas

Gas stove actually unleash indoor air pollutants like soot, formaldehyde, carbon monoxide, and nitrogen dioxide. Beyond that, greenhouse gas emissions from fossil fuels like natural gas drive climate change. That’s why there’s a push now to electrify homes; electric stoves can run on clean energy.

The history of how “cooking with gas” campaigns have made a source of fossil fuel combustion in our homes seem completely innocuous gets pretty ridiculous. Leber dug up a rap video from 1988 that spends an entire four minutes hyping up gas stoves in rhyme. “Gas is so hot, it’s not on when it’s off / it’s the only way to cook, that’s what I was taught,” the rap starts off.

Fast forward to about two minutes into the video, however, and there’s a disclaimer in the lyrics that my colleague Sean O’Kane noticed: “Safe cooking begins with range location / avoid main traffic paths and also isolation.”

Today, gas groups pay social media influencers to advertise the supposed benefits of cooking with the fossil fuel, Leber reports. A public relations representative even posed as a resident in a neighborhood to stir up backlash against building codes that would discourage natural gas hookups in new construction, she writes.

You have to read the truly bizarre and alarming history of gas that Leber traces in her article. With many of us spending more time working and hanging out at home during the pandemic, it’s more important than ever to be aware of what we’re exposed to inside the place that’s supposed to be our refuge.

How to Deep Clean Your Gas Stove Burners Using Natural Cleaners

No library of kitchen cleaning tips would be complete without an article on deep cleaning gas and electric burners! Dirty, greasy gas burner grates and drip pans not only age the appliance, but they also can affect your cooking and present a fire hazard. Cleaning stove burners is simple when you use these tips from the pros. Read on to see how you can get your stove sparkling clean with gas stove cleaner made from natural ingredients.

How Often To Clean Gas Stove Burners

Tempered glass gas stove is easy to maintain. However, when the flow of gas gets blocked, the burner heads can’t burn efficiently. Check the gas burners for irregular flame patterns and yellow flames. These are the best indicators that it’s time to grab your gas stove cleaner and get to work. Other than that, cleaning your gas stove monthly should keep it working at its best.

Here’s what you’ll need to get your gas burners clean:

Dishwashing detergent

Baking soda

Non-abrasive scrub pad

Cleaning cloths

Old toothbrush

Paper clip

Cleaning Gas Stove Burners and Caps

If you have a cooktop with a pilot light, you’ll need to shut off the gas valve first. Gas burners have a removable ceramic cap that diffuses the flames. Beneath the caps, the burner head sits atop the gas tube. Remove the caps and the burner heads by carefully lifting them straight up. Avoid damaging the ignition electrode if you have one.

Soak the burner heads and caps in soap and warm water for 30 minutes. Scrub buildup from the burner heads and caps using a non-abrasive scrub pad and an old toothbrush. If the port openings are clogged, use a paper clip to clear them. Be careful not to damage the metal.

How To Clean Electric Stove Burners

Here’s what you’ll need to get your burner stand clean:

Dishwashing detergent

Baking soda

Non-abrasive scrub pad

Microfiber towel

Cleaning cloths

If your coils and drip pans have caked-on grime, turn the burners on for a few minutes to burn off residue. After they cool, wash the drip pans with warm soapy water and cover them completely with a mixture of 2 parts baking soda and 1 part water. Let the drip pans sit for 15 minutes.

While the drip pans are soaking, wipe down the stove coils with a damp cloth to remove stains and residue. Scrub the drip pans and rinse the baking soda mixture. Use fresh soapy water to wash off the residue, then rinse and dry. Buff them to a nice shiny finish with a microfiber towel. Now, on to your stovetop.

How to Clean Your Stovetop

For gas stovetops, use caution and avoid getting the electric starter wet. Degrease the stovetop by wiping it down with a damp cloth to loosen up the top layer of residue. Use a sponge and soapy water to cut through the grease and wipe down your stovetop with a damp cloth to remove the cleaning solution.

For tough buildup, turn to your homemade baking soda mixture. Spread your cleaning paste over the entire stovetop and let it sit for at least 15 minutes. Scrub the stovetop and wipe off the baking soda cleaner with a clean, damp cloth.

If you are intimidated by cleaning your gas or electric stove, or any other place in your kitchen, don’t fret. Call The Maids for a free estimate and get that good-as-new, clean home feeling you love.

Gas stove tops offer quick temperature control and are more affordable to use than electric stove tops.

The best material for a gas stove is one that can conduct and distribute heat evenly, and respond quickly to temperature changes.

For the best cookware for gas stoves, look for ones that are made of stainless steel with aluminum or copper layers.

The average household gas stove looks like it can handle quite a bit. Its sizable build, durable fabrication, rugged cast iron grates, all signify a hard-wearing kitchen appliance.

Still, as with any appliance, especially one used practically every day to prepare food, it’s important to handle gas stoves with care. This means making sure the stove is well-maintained, properly cleaned, and used with the right cookware.

While technically any pot or pan can be used on a gas stove, there are certain materials that are better suited for its open-flame style of cooking. We recommend our own stainless steel cookware for gas stoves. In this article, we’ll share what those materials are, explain why they work so well, and round up some of the best cookware for gas stoves available today.

The Features of a Gas Stove

Iron gas stove may be older than electric stoves, but they’re still the preferred option for a number of reasons.

First and most important is how easy it is to adjust the heat of a gas stove. A burner can be turned on and off in an instant. And every twist of the control knob creates an immediate corresponding change in the burner’s flame level — a lightning quick heat response that’s crucial in cooking.

Many cooks also like how the flames provide a convenient visual cue about the stove’s current heat setting. This can be a bit trickier to gauge with the dark glass tops of electric or induction cooktops.

An added bonus of the open flame is that it lends itself well to quickly roasting a few small items, like corn tortillas, bell peppers, or marshmallows.

Cooking with gas is also comparatively cheaper than cooking with electricity. Gas stoves generally run on propane, butane, petroleum, or natural gas, all of which are quite affordable. This gives gas stoves an advantage, not only for the cost-conscious home cook, but for anyone who finds themselves in the middle of a power outage.

As for cookware, gas stovetops easily accommodate a wide range. They can be used with just about any type of cookware material and shape — from small skillets to tall stockpots. Woks in particular were designed to be used over an open flame.

Flames, however, don't naturally distribute heat in a uniform manner. Some parts of a pan will have more contact with stronger flames than other parts, and the heat can be very concentrated, especially on a low setting.

Add this to a gas stove’s ability to change temperatures in an instant, and it's easy to see why it's so important to use cookware that can ably withstand these variations.

Choosing the Best Portable Gas Stove

Portable gas stoves are crucial gear for the gourmet on the go. These stoves usually come with a burner and a cooking surface, and they let you boil, simmer, sauté, and fry. If you can do it on a stovetop at home, you can do it on a portable stove.

Folding gas stove is different than a portable gas grills. Portable grills are similar to the grills you use at home. If you want to grill up hot dogs, chicken, or vegetables, you’re good to go with a portable grill. But sometimes you want more than your standard backyard barbecue menu, and that’s where a portable gas stove comes in. These have burners more like a traditional stove. They often come with containers to cook in, but many can also be used with other types of pots, pans, and skillets like a regular stovetop.

What Kind of Portable Gas Stove Do You Need?

The adventures you have on the trail aren’t like anyone else’s. Your needs and your priorities are unique. That’s why there are stoves for every type of outdoor explorer, from long-distance backpackers to car campers.

As you think about your needs, there are some specific features you may want to think about:

Size – If you’re hiking, you’ll want to save as much space and weight in your pack as possible. If you’re getting to base camp and setting up quickly, you might be more willing to haul a little more gear in the name of having the perfect home away from home.

Fuel type – There are three main liquid fuels. Each have their own considerations and limitations. Then there’s our Jetpower fuel, which combines the benefits of both.

Propane is the most common camp stove fuel. It’s high-performance, and you can find it just about everywhere. Propane is what powers the Genesis base camp system, and Jetlink technology lets you build a high-efficiency network of burners from one propane tank.

Isobutane has a lower boiling point, and it’s lighter. That means it’s easier to carry, and it’s more efficient in colder environments. However, it’s also more expensive.

Butane is the cheapest fuel for a portable gas stove, but it’s also the least efficient and reliable. It has the highest boiling point and the lowest vapor pressure of the three gases.

Jetpower is Jetboil’s engineered blend of propane and isobutane. It’s a unique mix that combines the best aspects of both, and it’s what we trust to power most of our stoves. Jetpower delivers high vapor pressure in all four seasons.

Cost – Cost is certainly a factor in choosing a portable gas stove, and there are options at every price point. However, it’s worth noting that sometimes paying more up front can save money in the long run. A high-efficiency stove means you’ll spend less on fuel over time, and durable equipment means you won’t have to buy a replacement for a long time.

Durability – Most people want a stove that holds up outdoors as well as they do. Knowing that you’ve got a well-engineered stove means knowing you’ve got a reliable one.

Number of burners – How big is the group that you’re feeding? If you’re solo, or just out with a partner, you can probably get away with one. But if you’re feeding a group, you may want a setup like the Genesis, which starts with two burners and can expand as your group dose.

Utility – What are you cooking? Are you boiling soup? Are you making a three-course meal? The meals you plan to cook may be the biggest factor of all in choosing the stove that suits your needs.

[athina-blaine]

“Hey, everyone, welcome back to my channel. My name is Maggie Abernathy and today we will be continuing our investigation of the, uh, eldritch monster slash English teacher who calls itself Jonathan Sims.”

-

Maggie is determined to catch Mr. Sims via her channel, and then everyone would see how cool and smart she was, right?

For @skyberia​, check out their amazing art!

Chapters: 1/1 [Complete]

Words: 5,998

Tags: POV Outsider, Teacher AU, 160 Never Happened, Scotland, The Eternal Struggle for Validation, Statement-Related Trauma, this ended up being a little less crack humor than i had first intended lmao, i blame jonny

~

The video opens to the image of an empty school courtyard. There’s a grunt, and then a young girl runs into the frame, turning to face the viewer. She has wild hair and even wilder eyes and is patting the wrinkles out of her grey, baggy hoodie. She couldn’t be more than 13.

“Hey, everyone, welcome back to my channel. My name is Maggie Abernathy and today we will be continuing our investigation of the, uh, eldritch monster slash English teacher who calls itself Jonathan Sims.”

Cut to a classroom, the camera peeking through a zipper.

A man with dark hair and nice clothes was standing at the front with his back to the other students, writing on the board.The video quality drops sharply, a faint whine humming in the background.

A low-quality dub begins playing over the image.

“Jonathan Sims came here in September of 2019. After some investigation, I have discovered that he previously held a position at the Magnus Institute in London, which investigates paranormal activity. Coincidence?”

There's a shift, and a voice from within the video speaks out.

“Mr. Sims, I have a question!”

The man turns, and there’s an touch of impatience to his expression.

“Miss Abernathy, this is not the time for—”

“Where’s the ark of the covenant?”

A sigh. “It was dismantled and melted down in 588 BC. Miss Abernathy—”

“What’s written on the Voynich manuscript?”

“Astrological readings and herbal recipes.”

“Who killed—”

“Miss Abernathy,” the man says, stringent, “please stay focused on the lecture. I’ll answer any questions at the end of class.” He turns back to the board. “And put away your phone.”

A hand appears over the camera, shoving it deeper into darkness. Another fuzzy dub plays over the image.

“Mr. Sims knows all these things he shouldn't know! Everyone says he's just joking, but I think it's something else. Maybe he's an immortal?"

Cut to a bustling lunchroom.

T he camera stares between a carton of milk and an orange, pointed towards a table filled with adults. One of them is the man from before, sipping from a porcelain mug. His back is to the camera again.

Suddenly, a mysterious object sails through the air. It’s a cup of vanilla pudding. The man turns sharply, eyes landing on the incoming projectile, before it hit him square in the face.

“Did you see that!” a voice hisses as the man scrambles for napkins. “There’s no way he could have known what was coming unless he literally has eyes in the back of his head! Researcher’s note: he might literally have eyes in the back of his head. Investigate further.”

“Miss Abernathy—”

The camera spins to an older man with graying hair walking into the frame, and, with a bitten off swear, the image spins away entirely.

Cut to an empty, school hallway. The camera is facing the door to a classroom.

“Every day, at the same time, give or take an hour, Mr. Sims returns to his classroom for some reason. He always makes sure no one's nearby before going in and locking the door. What's he hiding?"

The man walks into frame, glancing up and down the hallway, before walking inside, closing the door behind him.

“I bet he's doing some kind of dark ritual or something. I swiped a key from the teacher's lounge," the camera points down to a hand clutching a silver key, "so let's bust him."

With a jerk, the camera rushes towards the classroom and bursts into the door.

“Mr. Sims, Mr. Sims, there’s an emergency!”

The man shouts, dropping a bag full of tapes and papers.

“Miss Abernathy, please,” the man, startled. “Where did you get that key?”

Another dub plays.

“Okay, so I didn't catch him doing anything weird, but it's only a matter of time, right?"

Cut to a pair of feet walking across the sidewalk, the camera rocking back and forth.

“Every Friday, Mr. Sims leaves the school grounds and goes into town. He might be meeting some other eldritch thing. Hopefully, we'll find out.

The camera peeks around a stone wall. At the end of the sidewalk, there’s the man talking to another man with short hair and glasses. They seem friendly. The second man glances directly into the camera, then lifts his hand and waves.

The first man whirls around and, with a tight mouth, begins storming over. There’s a muffled shriek and the image blurs, footsteps clacking wildly on the pavement.

“He does have an accomplice!” the girl says, panting.

Cut back to the courtyard. The girl is wringing her hands, and she clears her throat.

“So, I haven't found anything substantial yet, but I think I'm getting close. Remember to, um, like, comment, and subscribe, everyone, and I’ll see you next Tuesday.”

She walks out of frame and the camera is jostled. The video ends.

 Maggie’s alarm was going off. Reaching over, she tapped around for the snooze button. Five more minutes.

Failing to find the button, she groaned, and lifted her head.

6:43.

Her alarm was set to go off at 6:15. School started in 17 minutes, and it was a 20-minute bike ride, minimum.

Swearing, she ripped off her bedsheets and ripped clothes off their hangers in her closet. No, no, she already had detention this weekend for the pudding cup thing. She couldn’t be late today. Crap, where was her backpack? She plucked it out of a pile of discarded clothes on her floor, threw on her hoodie, and ran out her bedroom.

Speeding through her bathroom routine, she ran into the kitchen, snatching up a granola bar, before tearing through the living room. The sound of deep, rumbling snores stopped her.

Dad was sprawled on the couch, still wearing his work clothes, blanket knocked aside. He hadn’t even taken off his watch and his work boots were caked with mud. Maggie had been up until 3 AM editing her video, which means he must have come home even later.

Jeez.

She fixed the blanket and shoved a pillow under his head and he barely stirred. He must have been really exhausted. Maggie dropped a kiss on his head before sprinting through the door and clamoring onto her bike. If she really pushed herself, she might make it before attendance.

By the time she rolled into school, the second bell was ringing. Her name was second on the attendance sheet. She wasn’t going to make it.

Dumping her bike near the rack, not even bothering to lock it up, she burst through the double doors and raced up the stairs, throwing open the door to her first period classroom.

“—Abernathy.”

“Here!” she said, squeezing the word out of her overwrought lungs.

Mr. Sims looked up from the attendance sheet.

“Welcome to class, Miss Abernathy," he said, unperturbed. "Right on time."

It wasn’t. It was, in fact, five minutes after attendance was usually taken. Maggie didn’t have the energy to process that, though, slumping into her seat with relief, heart racing in her chest. Ugh, she was sticky and sweaty and felt gross. She hated cardio.

Mr. Sims finished taking attendance shortly after, and then asked for the class to turn in last night’s homework. He went from desk to desk collecting their papers, and he slowed when he reached Maggie.

“I would ask that you not stay up so late in the future."

He said it with a gentle, knowing curl of his mouth.

Maggie stared up at him. Any other time, she would have pulled out her notebook and jotted down such obviously suspicious activity, but, for now, she let herself savor the fact that she wouldn’t be having double detention this Saturday, and shrugged, pulling out her English journal.

There was time for investigating, later.

 It was pizza and green beans for lunch today. Maggie scanned for available seats. Today, she was lucky. There was a seat open by Cynthia, from math class.

“Um, hey,” she said, approaching the table. There was a hushed silence as eyes swiveled towards her, and she swallowed, nervous. “Can I sit here, today?”

One of the boy’s eyes shot towards another, who shrugged.

“Yeah, go ahead,” he said.

Pleased, she sat down. Usually, she’d have to sit in the far corner of the cafeteria. It was much colder over there.

“So, I, um, posted a new video last night, on my YouTube channel,” she said to Cynthia, stirring her green beans, “if you guys wanted to check it out.”

“You’re still making those things?” said Cynthia with a raised brow.

“Oh, uh,” she said, pausing at the tone of her voice as she said things. “Well, yeah. I’ve gotten, like, three new subscribers.”

“You’re so obsessed with him, you know that? It’s kind of creepy.”

Maggie barely held back her flinch. “I’m not obsessed, I’m investigating—”

“Isn’t he married?” said one of the boys. “I think I met his husband at the bake sale last month.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” said Cynthia. “My mom sees them both all the time in the café. Won’t shut up about how cute they are. Oh, that reminds me, we had this customer the other day—”

“I bet he’s doing something really freaky during study hall,” Maggie said. If she could just get them to care … “You know, whenever he goes back to his classroom? He always looks around to make sure no one’s watching and locks the door. Isn’t that suspicious?”

“Yeah, sure, weird,” said Cynthia, turning to the boy across from her. “So, we had this customer, and I think he must have been from Wales or something …”

Maggie opened her mouth, but nobody was looking at her. Embarrassment flushing her face, she stared down at her food, because still, still nobody cared about her videos. She briefly fantasized about huffing and picking up her tray and dramatically storming off, but there was nowhere else to sit. Nowhere but that cold back corner of the cafeteria.

She’d just need to dig up something more exciting to put in her videos. For instance, what it was that Mr. Sims got up to during study hall. Then they’d check out her videos. Then they’d see what a good detective she was.

She plucked up one of her green beans, but found she wasn’t hungry.

 Maggie knew there was something weird about Mr. Sims since pretty much the moment she met him; when the principal was introducing him to the class at the start of the semester, and he was taking attendance.

“Maggie Abernathy,” he had said, and Maggie’s eyebrows shot up, stunned.

“Um. Here?”

He didn't react to her surprise, moving on to the next student. At the end of class, she walked up to his desk, fidgeting with her hands in front of her chest.

“Why did you call me Maggie?”

Mr. Sims looked up, one brow raised. His expression was so severe and dignified that Maggie had to look away, too intimidated to make eye contact.

“It’s your name, isn’t it?”

“Actually, my name’s Margaret.”

“Oh, that’s,” he lifted the attendance sheet, squinting. “Yes, that appears to be the case. I apologize.”

Well, she didn't know about all that. Yes, Margaret had been her name, but she hated it. It was so old and came from her grandmother, who yelled at her all the time. She’d always wanted to have people call her Maggie, but she had this terrible vision of people calling it stupid. Only her diary knew what she really wanted.

Mr. Sims smiled, his expression gentling. It made him look a lot younger, and she flushed.

“Unless you would prefer to be called Maggie, Miss Abernathy?”

The heat on her face became that much worse, and she fixed her hair.

“Um, yeah, that would be cool.”

At home, Maggie was working on her new video and decided talk about her new teacher. She had titled it, My new teacher’s a cryptid!, half-jokingly, but it had received the most views she’s ever had. Almost 200! She had received one comment, the only one she'd gotten that wasn't from her dad, and it had said she should keep investigating.

So, she just sort of … started investigating. She hadn’t really expected anything else to come of it, but then Mr. Sims just kept acting strangely. Nothing to prove anything, not really, but just enough to make Maggie wonder that, maybe, there actually was something more going on here. And if it got her videos more views, then, well, she supposed it was a win-win.

It was more than just the name thing, after all. She always got the feeling Mr. Sims was … watching them, somehow. Even when his back was turn to the class. He always knew who was playing with their phone under the desk, who was cheating, etc.

Even outside of class, she sometimes got that feeling. It only became more obvious when the feeling went away; it felt like taking her backpack off at the end of the school day. That’s how she knew the best times to continue with her investigations. Like now, for instance.

Maggie waited until Mr. Sims left before sneaking over to the classroom. She could have anywhere from 10 minutes to an hour, so she needed to be quick. He locked the door, but Maggie had just swiped the key from the teacher’s lounge, again.

It’s not her fault they just left them dangling on a hook where anyone could grab it.

As quietly as she could, she slipped inside and closed the door behind her. Now, to investigate.

Pulling out her phone, she cleared her throat.

“Okay, um, hey, guys,” she said, voice low. “I’ve successfully infiltrated Jonathan Sims’ classroom. Hopefully, we’ll discover more information about whatever it is that’s happening here.”

Reaching for the desk, she froze. She hadn’t had a problem imagining going through his desk, but being here, actually faced with doing it, she found it much harder. This was his desk. What if he had something ridiculously private in here?

Come on. The camera’s rolling.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the first drawer, but found it to be locked. She tried all the drawers, but they were all locked. Dammit. What was she supposed to do now?

She scanned the desk with her camera just to have something interesting to put in the video.

“What’s with this weird tape recorder?” she mumbled, fingers brushing the buttons. “Looks ancient.”

Then, she heard a voice. Mr. Sims.

Crap. It would be suspension for sure if she was caught having stolen the key again. Trying not to move anything out of place, she sprinted towards the back of the classroom and into the closet. She could see though the slit panels as Mr. Sims entered the room, talking on the phone.

“—go straight home,” he said, taking his seat. “If you buy one more scented candle, I’m going to—”

He sighed.

“Yes, alright, fine. I love you, too.”

He hung up, and then pulled the tape recorder closer to him, grabbing a file from the stack of papers. Intrigued, Maggie held up her phone, still recording. Perhaps this wasn’t a waste of time after all.

Mr. Sims cleared his throat, and then pressed a button on the recorder.

“Statement of Timothy Dale regarding an appointment with his acupuncturist. Statement recorded by Jonathan Sims, former Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute.”

Maggie narrowed her eyes. He was taking a statement? Like some kind of cop? He had mentioned the Magnus Institute just now. Did this use to be his job?

How … boring. No wonder he left if this is what he did all day.

Mr. Sims took a deep breath, and then his voice … changed.

“I didn't think I had so much blood,” he said, softly. “I don't think I have so much blood. I don't know how I'm alive.” He paused, seeming to collect himself, before continuing, “It started when I went to visit my acupuncturist. I’m a pretty stressed out guy, you see. It’s funny, how something can sound so painful, like being stabbed with dozens of needles over and over again, can actually be quite relaxing, but Mrs. Lloyd had a magic touch.”

Maggie shuddered. Gross. She hated needles.

“Mrs. Lloyd wasn’t there that day, though. Instead was a strange man who called himself Mr. Bail. I asked where Mrs. Lloyd was and he said she was on an extended leave of absence, but that he would be able to provide a level of care even better than Mrs. Lloyd, if I was interested. Obviously, I was interested, I had been looking forward to this appointment all well, and I figured he was trustworthy since Mrs. Lloyd left her facility in his care, so why not?”

It may have just been the needles, but Maggie was starting to feel weird. Unpleasant. Maybe recording this was a bad idea, after all? But even though she thought about it, she couldn’t bring herself to lower the phone.

“The procedure began, and it didn’t hurt, but it felt different. Everything was fine until the end, when I noticed that some of the puncture marks were bleeding. I hadn’t even felt it. I confronted the man, enraged, but he said it was all a part of the healing process. He said it all with a smile. The front desk person was sensible enough to give me a refund. They were lucky I didn’t call the police. But something wasn’t right. The marks wouldn’t stop bleeding. No matter how long I kept the bandages on, they kept bleeding. Days went by and they just kept bleeding.”

This was gross. This was really, really gross. Did some guy really go to the Institute and make this kind of statement? It must have been a prank. Mr. Sims had to know he was being pranked, right?

She didn’t think he knew, though. He sounded scared. Why was he reading it if he was so scared?

She needed to get out of here. She might be suspended, but she didn’t care anymore, she just wanted to get away from this awful, awful story. But when she tried to move her legs, she found, with a sinking feeling, that they wouldn’t go. She willed herself to open the closet door, but it was like she was encased in a stone mold. She couldn’t even lower her phone.

The only thing she could do was shake, and breathe.

“I’ve lost so much blood these last few weeks. I don’t know how I’m still alive. My chest hurts and my breathing’s shallow and I’m so pale and cold, but more just keeps coming out. It’s gotten on everything; my clothes, my bed, the walls. And the smell …” Mr. Sims frowned. “Have you ever been around that much blood before? You can taste the metal in the back of your throat, all the time. It doesn’t go away.”

Stop.

Please stop ...

“And it just keeps coming.”

He talked and talked and talked, until Maggie’s eyes burned and her legs cramped. She was shaking so hard, she thought that at any minute Mr. Sims would hear her and save her from whatever this was. But he just kept reading.

Finally, Mr. Sims' voice returned to normal.

“Mr. Dale committed suicide shortly after this statement. Due to the amount of blood discovered in his home, the police initially suspected a burglary gone wrong, but there were no signs of forced entry. There’s little else to be gleaned from scanning through online archives.” He sighed. “Even the statement file had blood on it. It sounded like a pained existence. End recording.”

Maggie slapped a hand over her mouth to hold back her gulping gasp for air.

It was over.

Leaning back in his chair, Mr. Sims let out a long breath. The lines on his face seemed deeper. More tired than before. But there was something else. Something … satisfied. Nausea curled in Maggie’s stomach. He looked as if though he had just had a big dinner.

At last, Mr. Sims got up to leave, and she could have cried. She so, so desperately wanted to get out of this closet. She wished she had never come here in the first place.

But then, just as Mr. Sims fingers brushed the handle, she saw something on the back of his hand. Some kind of wrinkle, gnarled and ugly. How had she never noticed such an eyesore before?

But then, it opened.

It was an eye, bright green, and it was staring right at her.

When Mr. Sims closed the door, she slid to the floor, arms and legs wracking with tremors. Tears streamed down her face.

What did she do? What did she do? Lifting her phone, she tried calling dad, knowing full well he was likely in the middle of his shift, but she needed him.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” she whispered, biting her lip. It went to voice mail, and she buried her face in her knees, tears trailing down her cheeks in thick globs. “Please …”

She needed to get out of here. When the shaking subsided and Maggie felt like she could move again, she stumbled towards the school entrance, not even stopping to grab her bike.

She wasn’t sure where she was going, but anywhere was better than here.

 The 403 bus would be coming in another 34 minutes. It could take her to the Glasgow airport. She didn’t know exactly what to do with this information, although a vague plan of buying a ticket back to America was forming in the back of her head. Mom would probably be mad to see her, but there was nowhere else that Maggie could go.

A bus pulled into the stop, but it wasn’t hers. It was still another 23 minutes. She really hated living in the countryside, sometimes.

“Excuse me.”

She looked up. There was a man with soft brown hair and glasses standing near the bench. He must have just gotten off. There was something familiar about him, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

He smiled.

“Are you Maggie Abernathy?”

She straightened up with shock.

“Sorry,” he said, holding up a hand. “I’m a big fan of your YouTube channel. Your videos are very good."

Maggie's jaw dropped. Well, that was certainly ... unexpected. She tried to say something, but it kept getting twisted up by her tongue. She’s been so desperate for anyone to take even the slightest interest in her videos, that, now that she was given the chance, she didn’t even know where to begin.

“I, um, not really,” she said, tracing the pattern of her jeans. “I just copy stuff I see from other channels. You know, BuzzFeed, Ghost Hunt UK, and stuff.”

“Oh, Melanie King fan, are you?”

“I mean, yeah. She’s only got the best ghost hunting channel online. People say its Franco Overton’s channel, but they just like his dumb humor." She kicked at the gravel with a pout. "King has the real stuff.”

“I’ll be sure to pass along the compliments.”

It took a moment for her to process the implication, but when she did, it hit her like a brick wall.

“You’re friends with Melanie King?”

“Well, ex-coworkers, really,” he said, scrubbing the back of his head. “Although I’ve been trying to get her and her partner up for Christmas. She and my husband don’t really get along, though.”

Maggie only knew of two out gay couples in town, and, with a sinking feeling, she figured this man wasn’t Mrs. Adair. He wasn’t wearing nearly enough hair spray.

“You’re Mr. Sims husband, aren’t you?”

“Oh, does my reputation proceed me?” he asked, smiling. “My name is Martin Blackwood. It’s nice to meet you.”

Maggie lifted a hand in greeting, too stunned to form a polite response. If Mr. Blackwood knew about her videos and was watching her videos, that must mean …

“Does … does Mr. Sims watch my videos, too?”

“Sometimes. I keep telling him to talk to you about it, but he says to let you have your fun.” He laughed a little, “Honestly, I think you intimidate him."

Somehow, she had never considered that Mr. Sims could be watching her videos, too, and all the terrible things she did and said. Mr. Blackwood was watching them, too, who seemed so awfully nice.

Now Maggie remembered where they had properly met before, outside of her ambushing. It had been at the bake sale last month. Maggie had brought scones, but they were wrinkled and soggy, even though she thought she had stored them correctly.

Mr. Blackwood had advised her to sprinkle her scones with flour before putting them in the oven, that way the glaze would set in right. He still ate one, and said it was delicious.

What was such a seemingly normal man doing with ... whatever Mr. Sims was? Had she made some kind of mistake? But that was impossible. Even now, she could see the image of that, that thing on his hand.

Another image came to her, though. Mr. Sims had tried one of her scones as well. His eyes had widened, exclaimed them to be "Quite good" and asked what she had put in them, to which she said orange zest. At the end of the day, he had come back for a second scone.

Maggie's video that week had been all about how Mr. Sims seemed to have some kind of compulsion power, and all the malicious ways could potentially use it.

Maggie lowered her face in her hands, her stomach roiling so badly she thought she might vomit.

“Are you okay?” said Mr. Blackwood, taking a seat next to her. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “I didn’t mean to …” She trailed off, not even sure what she had even meant to do. “I just wanted to do something cool.”

“I think your videos are pretty cool.”

“No you don't," she said, under her breath. "No one does. Everyone at school thinks I'm creepy."

“I suppose you do get a little intense, sometimes. Although, I was really impressed how well you aimed that pudding cup.”

Her face flushed bright red, more embarrassed than she had ever thought possible.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffled, wiping her face. “I don't think those things about Mr. Sims. I just thought this channel would make people want to talk to me.”

Mr. Blackwood hummed, looking out towards the road.

“Well, I think you have the right idea, personally,” he said. “If you do the things you love long enough, you might meet people who love those things, too. And they might want to be friends.”

Maggie looked down at her feet. It was hard to process anything with how much was stuffing her brain. But Mr. Blackwood was nice. She liked the sound of his voice. Having him sit next to her, silent and patient, helped her senses settle themselves.

She grimaced. Had she really been thinking of flying back all the way to America?

Seeming to sense her struggle, Mr. Blackwood turned towards her.

“Is it alright if I ask what you’re doing out here?”

She futzed with her hands, trying to find the right words. This was Mr. Sims' husband, after all. “I saw Mr. Sims reading something. I think he called it a statement.”

Some of the color drained from Mr. Blackwood’s expression, and she fully expected him to call her crazy, because, yes, it was a little crazy, but instead, he said,

“That must have been rather frightening.”

Maggie blinked. He knew.

Mind racing with questions, she started with, “Why did he do that? It looked like he enjoyed it or something, but also like he didn’t. Like he was, I don’t know,” her nose twisted, “eating it.”

“It’s complicated,” he said. “He doesn’t enjoy it, though, but if he doesn’t do it, well,” he glanced down at his feet, “he won’t feel so good after a while.”

Maggie leaned back, considering the trees on the other end of the road. It sounded awful, having to read those terrible stories all the time. No wonder Mr. Sims looked so old.  She’d only listened to one, and she was pretty sure she was going to have nightmares for weeks.

A noise caught her attention. A car was pulling up to the bus stop, and when the door opened, every muscle in her body stiffened. It was Mr. Sims.

“Jon,” Mr. Blackwood said, rising to his feet and Maggie jumped up alongside him. Mr. Sims glanced at him, surprised, but his attention turned back to Maggie. She glanced at his hand, but nothing was there.

“Miss Abernathy,” he said, voice laced with distress as he closed the car door and began approaching them, “you can’t just disappear like that. The entire school is—”

Mr. Blackwood pressed a hand to his husband’s shoulder, leaning in close and whispering something into his ear. The expression on Mr. Sims’ face shifted from barely concealed concern to stark horror, the color draining from his face.

“Oh my god,” he said. “Miss Abernathy, are you—”

“I’m fine,” she said, quickly. Mr. Sims didn't seem to think it was fine, though. It unsettled her, seeing that fear in his eyes.

“I am so sorry," he said, holding his hand out, as if he were placating a wild animal. "You were never supposed to see that.”

“Is …” She hesitated, picking at a frayed thread in her hoodie. “Is it okay if I go home early today?”

Mr. Sims didn't seem capable of formulating a response. Mr. Blackwood squeezed his husband's shoulder, and smiled at Maggie.

"I'm sure that will be fine. How about we go back to the school together and wait for your parents?"

Her eyes slid over to Mr. Blackwood before returning to Mr. Sims. Both of their eyes held nothing but concern. Mr. Sims had brown eyes. Not green. She hadn’t noticed that before.

She nodded.

 Maggie got to stay home for the rest of the week.

After her voicemail, dad had lost his mind. She said she just had a bad nightmare after falling asleep in class, but that didn’t seem to be what was troubling him.

It was only later that day, towards the end of dinner, that he gently admitted he was furious at himself for missing such an important call. She told him it was fine, he was working, she knew that, but that didn’t seem to make him feel better.

He even took a few days off to spend time with her, make sure she was okay. They watched TV and played board games together. It was the most she'd seen him in months.

And she didn't have to go to school! Much as she loved her dad, that was still probably the best part. She had all her assignments emailed to her and she would sleep in until noon.

There was still her channel, though. During a bout of intense guilt, she had deleted it, barely giving herself time to second guess. She just couldn't stand the thought of all the things she'd said and done being bared before the world. Then, she turned to her phone. 

It took her hours to build up the courage, but when she finally played that video, she was almost disappointed to find that it was distorted beyond all recognition. She deleted it.

By the time the nightmares finally abated by the time Monday rolled around, she was actually starting to feel better, just a little bit.

 Maggie was in the school library when she saw Mr. Sims again. She had been in the middle of staring at the tail of a mountain hare, scratching her chin, when the door closed. She looked up to see him juggling an armload of books.

“Hey, Mr. Sims!”

He jumped, the books tumbling out of his arms and onto the floor with a loud crash. Maggie winced, and shot up from her computer, but Mr. Sims held out his hand.

“That’s alright,” he said, leaning down to begin picking up the books. “It’s good to see you again, Miss Abernathy. How are you feeling?”

“Better."

“I’m glad to hear it.” As he straightened up, dusting off the sleeve of the books, his expression shifted to something a bit more unpolished. “I should have told you this much earlier, but I wanted to apologize for frightening you so badly.”

Sheepish, Maggie soothed down a loose strand of her hair. “It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it.”

Mr. Sims frowned, clearly deciding it mostly certainly wasn't okay. “Still, you can rest easy knowing I won’t be taking statements on the school premises any longer.”

"I shouldn’t have snuck into your classroom in the first place.”

“It’s not your fault, it was mine for not being more diligent."

Still, it must have been awfully inconvenient for him, but the way his lips curled downwards made her think he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. She cleared her throat.

“I’m also sorry about filming you,” she said. “And stalking you. And throwing food.”

“It's alright. I’ve been through much more harrowing experiences than a wayward cup of pudding.”

Maggie had no trouble believing him, fully aware of the rumors of the scars that pocketed Mr. Sims skin, but she was pulled from her musings when Mr. Sims glanced down at her monitor.

“What are you working on?”

“Oh, um,” she fixed her hair, blushing, “the multimedia club asked if I could put together something for morning announcements. They wanted a segment on the rabbits that live nearby.”

“Did you get these images yourself?”

“No, I’m just editing it. Frank is the one who films it. He’s got this amazing camera his dad got him for his birthday.”

“Seems like it’s coming along nicely.”

“Thanks,” she said, taking her seat, picking at her cuticles. She wasn't quite sure what exactly the boundaries were, but she couldn't know until she asked. “So, like, you know everything, right?”

Mr. Sims raised a brow.

“Do you know when Brendon Urie is dropping his next album?”

“Unfortunately, precognition is not among my list of skills.”

Maggie pouted. Mr. Sims looked torn for a moment, before sighing.

“I believe there’s talks for a holiday release, however.”

“No way,” she said. “Do you know when he’s going on tour? Is he gonna come to London again, or maybe Glasgow? Is it—”

“Have a good day, Miss Abernathy,” said Mr. Sims, continuing further into the library. Maggie huffed, but returned to the monitor. The school had way better editing software than what she had at home, so she was hoping to finish this before school ended.

“Hey, Maggie.”

She turned. Frank lifted a hand in greeting, dropping his computer bag on the table and she smiled.

“Hey there, Frank. You got some really great footage today.”

“Oh, um, thanks,” he said, a light red staining his cheeks. “It’s hard to take a bad picture with this camera, though."

"No way, you've got a real knack for it." She pulled up an image of two rabbits cuddling next to each other. "This looks so good! You must have waited around for hours to get a shot like that."

Frank scrubbed the back of his head, the flush  of his face growing bright. "Yeah, I had to work for that one a bit. By the way, Alice is inviting the club over to her house later so we can go over our videos together. Her mum’s bringing snacks. You wanna come with?”

Maggie's hand paused on the keyboard. “Oh, um ..." Be cool. "Yeah, that sounds fun.”

“Great. See you there.”

Frank waved and Maggie waved back. Oh, shoot. Now she’d really need to finish the video before school ended if she wanted it ready to share with the rest of the club.

Pulling out her phone, she sent her dad a quick text about her plans, before turning back to the monitor.

[froggycatvest]

Title: There’s a cafeteria? Words: 1900 Ships: None Warnings: None Characters: Benrey, Gordon, Tommy, Dr. Coomer, Bubby Part 4 of 5 Part one HERE

Benrey’s POV. The group find a cafeteria, try to get some food cooking, but maybe the fire alarm goes off. (It is not because of Bubby). 

---

There was suddenly the smell of fire, and Gordon was drawn to it immediately, eyes wide as he all but ran out of the pantry. He started yelling out, “Bubby! Why are you turning on all the stovetops?”

Benry followed to see that was exactly what was happening, along with Tommy and Dr. Coomer at another stove opening up the cans and setting things up there. Bubby shrugged. 

“I’m bored. Mind your own business.”

Gordon stepped up to him, hand extended to point at the flames. “It is my business if you burn this place down.”

Bubby glanced between the stove and the other man, eyebrow raised. “How is that your business?”

“I don’t want to die,” Gordon said, as if it were obvious. “I don’t want to burn to death.”

Bubby stood there while Gordon began turning the burners off. “You’re more likely to die from smoke inhalation.”

Gordon shook his head slowly. “Don’t want that either.”

Tommy piped up. “We have--You don’t have to worry. Black Mesa is fitted with The Most Advanced Fire Protection System available.”

“You heard him,” Bubby said. “A system to protect fires.”

Dr. Coomer seemingly agreed. “Only the best in fire fighting technology here in Black Mesa. Along with our patented laser security system, automated door locks, and bulletproof windows. Safety is our number one priority.” 

“All of which did nothing to help us.” Gordon looked around the ceiling. “Is it a sprinkler system? It’d probably shoot bullets at us instead.”  

There was a lot of talk then, everyone spouting the first thing that came to mind with stuff like It’ll shoot Water at us. Not bullets and Well, we’d better shoot it first! and There’s no sprinkler system in Black Mesa and That’s for a lawn.

Gordon nodded in agreement, unable to address them all, so he just kept talking. “Look, I don’t have any confidence in anything here saving us. Just use one burner, alright? I’m going to see what else is around here.”

When he went for the cabinets, Benry snapped to attention and pushed past him. “I got it.” He never got to check this area from before when he was searching for food with Tommy, and didn’t want Gordon to find something good first.

“Oh, what?” Benry stopped and stared over his shoulder at the amused grin on Gordon’s face. “Am I not allowed to have food?”

Benry glanced down in thought. It had been funny riling Gordon Freeman up this entire time. It had been fun watching him trip over his words before turning away in exasperation to ignore him. Sometimes, Benry didn’t understand why the man would get all worked up when they were just talking. It wasn’t like he was always insulting him, after all.   

Gordon leaned forward, hand and gunhand on his hips, and head tilting. “You think I’m going to steal it all or something?”

He also didn’t understand why, but every so often, the man tried to joke with him, would say nice things to him, even laughed at the things he would say. Gordon Freeman was weird.

“Yeah maybe.”

Gordon parroted him with a lighthearted, “Yeah, maybe.” When he came up behind Benry to get a look in an open cupboard, Benry quickly stepped to the side.

Gordon didn’t seem to notice, still cheerful. “Hey, grab me some cereal.”

Dr. Coomer called out from a stove where he was heating up the huge pot of soup. “Make sure you’re getting a balanced meal, Gordon. It’s good for brain power.”

“You’re telling me this?” Gordon whirled on him, asking teasingly. “The soda chugger? The sewage slurper? The toxic waste ingestor?”

“You should try it,” Benry said, box of cereal held in both hands.

Gordon noticed it, and dug around for a bowl. “Try what?”

“The sewage.”

“No thanks.” Gordon placed two bowls on the counter, sliding one towards Benry.  “We’ve been in enough sewage to last me the rest of my life.”

“It’s a...it’s a balanced meal.”

Gordon finally gave him a good reaction, his entire attention on him now with amused disbelief. “How is it a balanced meal? How?”

Benry shrugged. “It has all the vitamins and minerals a body needs.”

“Maybe for you.”

There were suddenly three cartons of milk shoved into both of their faces, Gordon sputtering and leaning back at the intrusion. “Guys, guys.”

Bubby placed one on top of Benry’s helmet. “That’s a balanced meal.”

Dr. Coomer showcased his off. “Did you know milk contains almost every single nutrient your body requires to live?”

Tommy held his milk carton out in one hand. “Calcium and Vitamin D is important for strong bones. You can grow them back if you need them to.”

Benry joined in, his voice louder and almost robot-like as he emphasized every word. “Gordon Needs More Vitamin D.”

It was too much for Gordon Freeman, laughter filling the kitchen. “I can’t,” he wheezed, leaning against the counter. “I can’t deal with all of you at once.”

“Milk,” Dr. Coomer replied.

“The soup,” Gordon forced out between breaths. “All of you go back to watching the thing that has fire under it.”

Benry was content to just stand there while everyone else left, and he noticed Gordon looking him over while composing himself. “What?”

“You look...great,” Gordon said with a grin. “Like a cereal fairy.” He straightened up and grabbed the milk carton off his helmet. Benry had forgotten that was there. After it was placed on the counter, the cereal box was taken from him as well, and Gordon tried--but failed--to get the bag open.

“Tommy,” Gordon immediately called as he joined the other three. “Can you help me with this?”

Benry yelled after him with grand advice. “Just shoot it.” It would open it. It would work. But no one listened to him. He eyed the milk carton, then took out his gun.

It wasn’t like with the birds and other creatures; when he took the shot, a mess splattered everywhere.

It was quiet for a moment, everyone’s attention on him before Gordon asked, “Why?” while Dr. Coomer gave out praises of, “Nice shot, Benrey.”

Benry realized he was splattered down the front, but it wasn’t different than the blood and goop he was used to already. He put his gun away while Gordon approached him, staring and snickering. 

“What did you think was going to happen?” Gordon said, biting his lip. “You’re a mess.”

“It’s open,” Benry stated simply.

“It’s destroyed,” Gordon corrected, looking pleased. “That was hilarious and it’s your fault.”

That’s what he got for trying to help. “It was your milk.” Which meant it was Gordon’s fault. He was the one that had wanted cereal. But Gordon didn’t get it, because he gestured towards Benry.

“It’s yours now.”

Dr. Coomer interjected with a brilliant idea. “If we start the sprinkler system, it’ll clean him off in no time.”

Which meant Gordon wouldn’t agree. “We aren’t doing that. He can use the sink.”

Benry shot at the ceiling.

“Stop that!” Gordon ordered, glancing up warily at where he was shooting. “I don’t want any kind of system, of any kind, to be activated down here. Nothing good comes from that.”

Benry’s gun disappeared. “I’m the security system.”

Gordon paused, as if really thinking about it. “Huh. I guess you are.” 

Benry was sure he didn’t have to sound so surprised. He was right and telling the truth whenever he wasn’t lying. Gordon gave him a thoughtful look as he continued on. 

“Ever think about doing another job? You’re not very good at this one.”

Dr. Coomer, at that moment, yelled out in victory. “Here it is!”

Even Benry’s attention shot over to where the man was near the doorway as he stood in a fighting stance next to a fire alarm station on the wall. He punched off the plastic cover, before pulling down on the handle.

Gordon was amazingly fast to react, eyes wide. “Dr. Coomer!”

A loud bell sound clanged around the room, lights from the alarm flashing brightly, but there was no spray of water anywhere.

Tommy cried out in all earnest, “Oh no, we have to get out of here!”

Gordon walked swiftly up to him to calm him. “Tommy, it’s a false alarm.”

“No, that’s illegal,” he said, strafing back and forth in distress. “You can’t do that intentionally.”

“You’ve tripped alarms multiple times, dude.”

Tommy stopped and stared at him, before looking here and there, quietly. He didn’t respond.

Bubby spoke up, sounding offended that no one had listened to him. “I told you there’s no sprinkler system.”

Gordon raised an eyebrow at that. “I think that’s illegal,” he said, and Bubby shrugged, uncaring.

“We’re not exactly abiding by most laws here in Black Mesa.”

Benry began to use his Voice to mimic the noise of the alarm out of boredom, and Gordon gave him an irritated look. 

“It’s loud enough, thanks!”

“You don’t have to yell,” Benry scolded flatly, but Bubby started yelling, too.  

“Turn it off already!”

Dr. Coomer examined the alarm, before straightening up to address everyone. “It seems I can’t. Fire alarms are not meant to be reset without the use of a key from authorized personnel or the fire department.”

Bubby whipped out his gun. “Not while I’m around.”

“Wait,” Tommy called out. “Benrey. You have the key.”

Benry turned towards him. “Huh?”

Gordon looked a little astonished. “You have a key for the alarm?”

“Yeah I’m the...I told you I’m the security system.”

He had responsibilities. He had lots of work. He had access to secure places. It was his job. Gordon Freeman seemed to forget that most of the time. It was kinda disrespectful. 

“Do you have to be so disrespectful?”

Gordon blinked at that, then frowned. “I’m not being disrespectful,” he huffed out and gestured towards the blaring alarm. “Can you turn it off?

Benry stared at it, before staring at Gordon. “Why?”

Bubby’s voice got louder in exasperation. “Oh my god. If you don’t hurry up, I’m going to shoot this damn thing!”

It was one thing to mess with Gordon, but he didn’t care to mess with Dr. Bubby. The older man was fun and easy to listen to. Even though, sure, Bubby punched at him a few times once, but that was okay, they were friendly punches. The kind you did when you messed around with your bros. He barely felt them.

Benry took out a ring of keys, selected the correct one, and went to deactivate the alarm. When everything went quiet, there were sighs of relief.

He approached Bubby closely. “You can still shoot it if you want.”

Bubby eyed his gun and then grinned. “I should.”

Gordon groaned out, “Please don’t.”

“Yo don’t ruin his fun.”

“You know what’s fun? Not letting the food burn. Who was in charge of that? Bubby, you’re in charge of that now.” Gordon shrugged and ran his fingers through his hair. “Don’t know if that’s a good idea or a bad idea, but it’ll give you something to do.”

Dr. Coomer pumped a fist. “Excellent idea. Bubby is a wonderful leader.” He pulled Bubby along among his protest of That’s not fun. “You can burn it a little, then. How about that?”

Tommy bounded after them, and when Benry went to follow, Gordon stepped in front of him with a firm, “Not you.”

[turnupswritessometimes]

Lavender Eyes - Glimmerdora - Ch4

Title: Lavender Eyes

Chapter: 4

Word Count: 4078

Summary: Adora’s on the football tem. Glimmer’s in band. They think they can’t stand each other, until a series of accidents forces them to open up to each other.

Note: This is also available on Archive of Our Own and it’s probably best to follow it there, as I remember to update it more. I would post a link, but then tumblr wouldn’t include it in search results.

Adora had tried to come in without making a noise. She had pulled the door to slowly behind her so that it only just caught on the latch, slipping her trainers off with her toes so that she could pad upstairs without making a sound. Both Catra and Adora had long since figured out how to get around the house without making a noise.

She wasn't quiet enough.

"Adora? Is that you?"

That sent an alarm bell through her. Beatrix only had such sharp ears when she was on edge. Otherwise, it was easy to sneak around her.

"Uh, yeah." Adora started down the hall to find Beatrix sat at the dining room table, a salad in front of her for dinner.

"I thought you were out with Catra." Her tone was light and conversational, but she was probing.

She hadn't said that. She had said she was going around Lonnie's.

So Catra was out too. And had assumed Adora would cover for her. For a moment, she considered getting her own back for the night of the game.

She couldn't do that.

"Yeah, I didn't feel too good, so I came home. She's met up with a few of the girls from the team." Taken out of context, the first part wasn't a lie.

"Oh, sweetheart, what's wrong?" Beatrix was up in the next moment, a hand against Adora's forehead. "Have you taken painkillers? Do you want me to make a hot water bottle up for you?"

"I'm okay now," Adora said quickly. She was backstepping and wondering why she wanted to avoid those hands. They were cold, but the house was cold. Everything was cold here. "I was just going to get some work done."

"You're not doing work if you don't feel well." Beatrix was taking her wrist, pulling her into the living room and sitting her on the sofa. Adora remained limp. She had tried to resist this mollycoddling before and knew that Beatrix's fingers could close like a bony shackle and hold her fast. "Though Catra should have come home with you."

"I didn't want to drag her home."

"It's your responsibility to take care of her, Adora." Beatrix was pulling the stray hair away from Adora's face. "She's not like you, she'll get into all sorts of trouble."

"We're the same age." Adora tried to keep her tone gentle. They were approaching thin ice and she didn't want to fall through to the freezing cold waters underneath. "Catra can handle herself."

There was a sharp yank on her ponytail before she could even gasp. There were the eyes again - eyes like a demon - inches from her face.

"Will you say that when she ends up passed out on the street? In the hospital? Dead?" her foster-mother snarled. The pain of her nails in her hair made Adora's eyes water. "The two of you think you can go around and do anything and neither of you think of what might happen to you? Neither of you think of me! I slave away to make you both large, healthy dinners every night and then both of you turn around and spit in my face! Going out and eating elsewhere and leaving me on my own! Selfish!"

Adora was finally released, her head jerking forward so hard it almost hit her knees. She couldn't catch her breath for a moment, especially not with Beatrix's shadow looming over her. Waiting for a response.

"I'll make something," Adora managed to gasp out. "And I'll have dinner with you. I'm sorry."

"Oh, Adora." There were those hands again - gentle now. Like when she used to soothe her from nightmares. "That's all I ask."

Adora shoved a frozen pizza in the oven and tapped her feet on the bottom of the kitchen stool as she waited for it. She listened to her foster mother talk endlessly about her day and nodded in all the right parts.

She got the pizza out, managed to rattle off the parts of school that would be approved of. Test scores and coursework and praise given by her teachers. How well training was going.

Nothing about Glimmer.

Glimmer's house had been warm. She only realised when she opened the oven and was greeted by a blast of warm air. Their house had been warm and Glimmer had warm hands. They wouldn't have to bundle up in multiple socks and jumpers and shiver all the way through winter because it wasn't cold enough to justify the central heating.

She wondered what dinner there would have been like. Sat around the table with Glimmers glamorous mother. Probably not a homemade stew or soup. Probably the kind of pre-made party food that was advertised around Christmas. Tiger prawns and mini quiches. It would probably be loud. Probably involved Bow and Glimmer teasing each other relentlessly and Glimmer's mum joining in.

The thought out her off her pizza. She managed to make up an upcoming Spanish test and slunk upstairs.

Adora had every intention to finally study. She pulled out her books and sat down on her bed to read them.

The next thing she knew was Catra's voice in her ear and her shoulder being shaken.

"Catra!" she jerked away, raising a hand to her face to protect herself.

Catra pulled it down. "Sssh! Don't want to wake the sleeping dragon."

"Did you climb through my window?" Adora hissed.

"Yeah? You're right above the garage. I do it all the time."

"I'm sleeping in here Catra."

"And I've never woken you."

"That's creepy."

Catra shrugged. It was the movement that sent the smell to Adora's nose.

"Have you been smoking?"

"I'm not telling you that."

"Why not? We tell each other everything."

"Because you'll tell Beatrix."

"I won't. Promise."

Catra sighed and Adora saw her roll her eyes in the dark. She caught the smell again. Stronger this time.

"Lonnie has this friend, Rogelio, he brought a joint."

"A joint?!"

"Oh, relax. There was only enough for like, two drags each."

"It smells like more."

"Well, weed smells." Catra shoved some of the books out of the way, plopping herself onto Adora's bed. "She covered for you, by the way."

"What?"

"Lonnie covered for you. Beatrix phoned her, no idea how she got her number, but she covered for you."

"I covered for you too."

"So where were you?"

"With a friend."

"All your friends are my friends, Adora."

Something about the way she said it made it sting.

"Not these ones."

"Who?" Catra waited for a response, then leant back. “No, wait – I know. That Bow kid.”

“What are you talking about?” Adora forced a laugh that wasn’t convincing.

“You mentioned them the other day – didn’t even know they were on your radar.” Catra grinned and her teeth flashed like fangs in the moonlight. “God, Beatrix will be pissed if she found out you were hanging out with a fag and a dyke.”

"Shut up, Catra."

"They're just so - nothing like you at all. Like everything that people hate about sjws all rolled into one."

"I said shut up!" Adora snapped.

Catra paused. She looked at her, toying with her bottom lip with her teeth. The motion made Adora's stomach jump.

"Just remember, Adora, they're not the ones who have your back on the field."

And with that, Catra slinked from her room. Adora glared after her, then through a punch into her pillow. She wasn't even sure why she was so angry.

She hated Catra when she was like this. She hated her foster mother when she was like this.

But she hated herself most of all.

*

Glimmer didn't act like nothing had happened. The team always carried on as usual, but not Glimmer.

No she had to run to Adora in the middle of the hallway, keychain on her bag jingling loudly enough to attract everyone around that's attention.

"Are you feeling any better?" She asked.

People were looking. Lonnie slammed her locker closed, turning dark eyes onto Adora.

"You can't do this," Adora said. "Not here."

"Be your friend?" Glimmer smiled, but it dropped at the expression on Adora's face.

"The team-"

"Can't know that we're friends," Glimmer finished. Her eyes hardened and her jaw set.  "Fine. Will I be giving you a lift home today, sir knight?"

"Glimmer," Adora wasn't even saying her name, it just came out as she exhaled.

"Find your own ride, Adora." Glimmer pushed past her, pulling her oversized cardigan around her.

 She opened her mouth – even though she had no idea what she was going to say. She ended up just staring after Glimmer as she stopped and greeted Bow. She still had a face like thunder and the two of them glanced back at her. Adora turned her back, pushing hair away from her face and waiting for Lonnie to catch up with her.

“What’s that about?” Lonnie asked.

Adora wasn’t good at lying. “Nothing.”

“Yeah, didn’t seem like nothing.” Lonnie crossed her arms, shifting her weight as she looked after Glimmer. “Didn’t she hug you at the game the other day?”

“What? No!”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t forget that hair anywhere,” Lonnie said. She scoffed, and raised her voice as they walked past. “I mean, honestly, pink hair with a red uniform? And they call me a fashion disaster.”

Adora couldn’t help it, she glanced back. Just in time to see Glimmer’s face crumple as she turned away, facing Bow. Her eyes caught on the hairs sticking up at the nape of her neck – they were undyed. What would Glimmer look like with brown hair? She didn’t want to know. That would be too boring. Too normal.

Too much like her.

“I think it’s-“

“You hugged her at the match.”

“Did someone knock you over, or something?”

“What are you bitches talking about?” Catra’s arms hooked around Adora and Lonnie’s necks and she looked at both of them. There was a strong smell around her that Adora tried to ignore.

“Just wondering why Adora’s so pally with pinky.” It seemed as though Lonnie was leaning into Catra’s touch, smiling up at her.

“I’m not,” Adora snapped. She caught herself. “I’m – I’m not, okay?”

“And yet you keep getting into her junkyard bait of a car.” Catra had the smile that she wore when she was getting other people into trouble.

Adora ducked out from under her arm. “Get fucked, Catra.”

She felt like the teen in a movie with a secret that made them touchy – shit, she was a teenager with a secret that made her touchy. She didn’t want to talk about Glimmer. Talking about Glimmer would make it real. It would force her to acknowledge things. Things that were changing. She wouldn’t be able to have the football team and Glimmer and Bow. There was always going to be a choice from day one. And she knew the choice. The choice that was safe and –

Straight.

The longer she stayed with Glimmer and Bow the more she was wrapped up in believing that it would be okay. That she would be able to come out one day. That was a dangerous thought. Bow and Glimmer were the dangerous choice.

But they were also the happy choice.

She wasn’t surprised that she couldn’t find Glimmer after training. That her car was already gone from the parking lot. Adora deserved that. She deserved to be completely ignored and never spoken to again.

The surprise was that Bow was leaning against her cruiser, his phone in his hand. A rose gold charm hung from it. A tiny heart and a tiny arrow.

“Uh, what are you doing?”

Bow looked up then and spoke completely casually. “Waiting for you.”

“Come to drag me across the coals?”

“For a lift, actually.”

“What?”

“Oh, right – manners.” Bow cleared his throat, drawing his shoulders back and puffing his chest up. “Adora, may I please have a lift in your, might I say, beautiful car?” He paused a moment, then stroked the top of it. “I must say, you have chosen a spiffing colour, my dear lady.”

Adora found herself laughing – against every feeling she had in the last twenty four hours, she was laughing.

“Just get in, you dork.”

Bow did, flashing her a very shiny grin and climbing up into the passengers seat. She tossed her bags into the back and settled herself behind the wheel.

“So, you really didn’t come to give me a bullocking?” she asked, reversing out of the parking space.

“You mean about the whole ‘we can only be friends in secret’ thing?”

“Mm.”

“I can’t blame you. I wouldn’t have the guts to stand up to the football team either. Those girls are mean.”

“Are you saying I’m a coward?” She swung onto the main road with more force than she should have.

“I would never. Like I said, you girls are mean.” Bow gave a dramatic shiver. “I would imply it, though.”

“I’m not a coward.”

“Oh no?”

“No.”

"And yet you couldn't stand up for Glimmer..." Bow tapped his fingers on the dashboard.

"What did you want me to say? That - that I like her hair?" Adora's hands were shakin and she gripped the steering wheel tighter. "That it's cute and fluffy like a cloud and she looks like some kind of angel? Yeah, no. That's not - that's-"

"Pretty, gay, Adora."

"Oh, says the guy who is gay."

"I know it when I see it."

"I'm not." Adora gave a huff-laugh. It sounded panicky. "I'm not gay."

"No, of course not." For a moment Bow sounded genuine, then he smiled. "But if you were, you'd be into Glimmer."

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to," Bow paused. "How long have you known?"

Adora sighed. Her key was swaying from where it was lodged in the car and it was distracting.

"A while. Since I realised the perks of playing football."

Bow nodded. He stared out the window for a moment, then fixed dark eyes on Adora.

"Park round the back of my house. We need to talk."

"That doesn't sound ominous."

"Oh, that was the aim." Bow still sounded cheery, and it put Adora's teeth on edge. But she still did as she was asked, following Bow’s rather awful instructions around to Glimmer’s neighbourhood. He really did live just down the road from her. And Bow’s house had a white picket fence – because of course it did. That was how perfect a neighbourhood he came from. Adora parked and leant back in the car, wondering what she was supposed to see.

“Give it a moment, they’re always out at this time,” Bow said, checking his watch. He continued to tap at the dashboard and Adora continued to watch. There was a horrible twisted feeling in her stomach.

Then the back door of Bow’s house opened and, through the fence, Adora could see two men coming out from the house. One had his arm around the other’s shoulder’s and they were both laughing about something.

“Those are my dads,” Bow said.

Adora heard herself give a sharp sigh. “I’m not against – I’m not homophobic. I don’t have a problem with-“

“That’s not what I was thinking.” Bow leant back, watching the pair sit at the garden table with a couple of ciders, still looking at each other like the other one was a rare treasure. “I was thinking that someone you know wouldn’t approve if they knew?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay.” Bow had one hand on the door handle. “I guess I’ll see you at school?”

He had one foot out of the car when Adora said it – she wasn’t sure why.  She wasn’t sure why she trusted Bow with this.

“My mom.”

Bow slid back into the car, without a word.

“I mean, my foster mom. She – being gay, that’s not – it doesn’t fit with her image of the perfect daughter. And I am. At least, I was. But now I’m – I’m hanging out with people she despises and not – not studying and I’m not what she wants me to be.”

Bow stayed staring at her for a long time, but she didn’t look at him. She kept her eyes focused on Bow’s dads. They were talking, leaning towards each other. Looking at each other like the other was perfect.

“My dads didn’t get it,” Bow finally said. “Ironic, right? But I just thought they wouldn’t understand the whole trans thing. For years I was terrified to tell them – I was going by Bow for ages before – before Glimmer helped me get the courage up to – to tell them who I really was. And they were…fine. They loved me no matter what.”

“That’s great, Bow.” Adora’s voice cracked. “I’m really glad that it’s worked out for you.”

“What I’m saying is – you probably have nothing to worry about. Whatever she wants you to be, she’ll love you anyway.”

Adora was smiling, but it was forced, fixed and nostalgic.

“I don’t think so. She’s not-“

“You never know. People surprise you.”

“No. No, you don’t know what she’s like.” She could still feel the ache on the back of her head. She took a long breath out. “Do me a favour and not tell Glimmer any of this?”

“Oh, of course not. As long as you don’t tell her that she was the kick I needed to come out to my parents.”

“Sure thing.”

Bow climbed out of the car, but kept a hand on the roof as he leant to see in.

“I did tell Glimmer I wouldn’t say anything,” he said. “But for the record, if you were gay, there’s a strong chance she’d be into you.”

“Yeah, right.”

Bow shrugged and closed the car door. He unlatched the gate and gave a final wave to Adora. She hadn’t moved. Her brain was struggling to process any of this conversation. Any of what she’d just admitted.  She just stared ahead of her, feeling like a blown fuse and only blinked herself back to reality when Bow waved before going into the gate.

Then she drove home.

Glimmer stubbornly ignored her the next day. Adora noticed that her voice was a little too loud and her laugh just a little too long. She was being punished she knew. There had been a test of her loyalties and she had failed. But why was that a fail? A fail implied she had gotten it wrong.

Did she want to get it right?

The thought was enough to almost send her stumbling in practice again. She was feeling things more now – the thud of the ground under her feet and the bash of the ball against her skin. If she didn’t know better, she would assume that Catra was actually trying to hurt her.

Bow was outside her car again when she had finished getting changed. She felt completely exhausted, and didn’t acknowledge him as she climbed in to the driver’s side.

“So, your mom hates the gays.”

“Pink hair too.”

“And what’s your opinion of pink hair, Adora?”

“Get fucked.” But she was smiling despite herself. Then she sighed. “I want to still hang out with you and Glimmer. I really do, it’s just-“

“The football team.”

“Would you stop finishing my sentences?”

“It’s a gift,” Bow said. “It comes right down to what it did a few weeks ago, doesn’t it? The team.”

“They’re my friends. My family.”

“And they hate that you aren’t like them. That you might want to hang out with the freaks and the weirdos.”

“You aren’t freaks, or weirdos.” Adora beeped the person in front of her. They were driving too slow for her liking and she was running out of patience. “You’re great fun and you’re happy and I enjoy your company.”

“Then what does it matter what Catra thinks?”

“It’s easy for you. You’ve clearly never cared what anyone thinks.”

“Oh, I used to.” Bow rolled down the window, resting his elbow on it. “But then I decided it was much more fun to annoy everyone by just existing.”

“And that takes guts. More guts than I have.”

“Really, Adora?” Bow was smiling when he looked at her. “You can fearlessly charge into seven foot giants, but you can’t stand up for yourself?”

“That’s different. That’s…”

“Easy?”

“How do you do that?”

“I’m good with people.”

Adora laughed. Which made Bow laugh. She turned up the radio and let him dance along to the songs because she was done being serious for one day. Done thinking in general.

She drove home, turning the radio off and instead trying desperately to remember the Disney songs that Glimmer always used to sing. She didn't have any cds in the car, but now she wished she did.

Catra was on the end of her bed, still in her track shorts and t-shirt with sweat stains down it.

"You're disgusting," Adora dumped her bag at the door. Normally she would sit on the bed, but something made her pause. "Go take a shower."

"Hey Adora," Catra smiled. "Not with your little friends today?"

"I dropped Bow off at his house.”

“Glitter’s still not speaking to you?” Catra examined her nails, tapping her foot.

“It’s Glimmer.”

“Yet, she left glitter in your car.”

“Are you here for any reason, Catra?”

Catra stood, taking her time as she stalked over to Adora. She swayed her hips and Adora forced her eyes away from the movement, swallowing heavily. She felt her cheeks warm and hated that.

“I just wanted to know,” Catra said. “Why this all came about.”

“What do you mean?”

“You hate me now.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Don’t you?” Catra shook her head. “You don’t hang out with us anymore. You don’t speak to us anymore.”

“Because you all act like bitches for no reason!” Adora said. Her voice broke. “What the hell did Bow do to you that made you hate him? What the hell did Glimmer do?”

“Right now they’re taking my best friend away!”

“Don’t be so childish! Just because they’re not you, Catra.”

“They’re not you either, Adora.” Catra’s lip quirked into a snarl and she was close to Adora. Close enough to smell the sweat still on her skin. “They’re nothing like you.”

“Maybe they’re not,” Adora said. “But at least they’re not bitches.”

Catra’s eyes narrowed. It looked as though she was bearing her teeth at Adora. She pushed past her, hard enough to nudge her back into the corridor, without saying a word.

Adora regretted it instantly. She hadn’t meant to take it that far. Hadn’t meant to be so cutting. She hadn’t meant to ignite that hatred in Catra’s arms. But it had just scared her. It had scared her because they were something like Adora. They were the something like Adora that she wanted to be.

It felt as though they had crossed a threshold of no return. Even if she went back to hanging out with the football team – even if she tried to make everything go back to normal, it couldn’t.

And she wasn’t sure she wanted it to. Now she had taken that first step, she didn’t want to go back to normal. To biting her tongue and turning a blind eye. To hiding in the closet. To pretending that Glimmer wasn’t her friend.

Glimmer was her friend and she was clever and happy and –

Beautiful.

Adora had called her beautiful and she had meant it. She didn’t want to cut Glimmer out of her life. She wanted to be her friend. To be friends. To be happy.

But Glimmer didn’t forgive easily and that was something that Adora knew all too well.  No, it would take something else – something big to show her that Adora had changed her mind. That she had changed it and meant it.

She sat down at her desk and put her head in her hands. Her stomach was still in knots about Catra, but Catra was Catra and she moved on easily. Catra blew hot and cold like a cat without the arguments. Glimmer – Glimmer was what she focused on.

It might just have been the first time she had come home from school and hadn’t done work. Instead, she wracked her brains for some grand gesture, thinking back on all the conversations her, Bow and Glimmer had.

Then it came to her and she smiled.

Adora had a plan.

[hanmeiultship]

Bermuda Triangle (Overwatch Hanzo x Mei FanFic)

Mei Ling Zhou, a third-year student at Bermuda University, lazily tapped snowball, her small robotic friend to turn off the alarm she set on it. She was ensconced in her blankets ready to fall back into her deep sleep until snowball splasher her with a mist of cold ice water. Although she was upset she thanked it for the gesture and tiredly crawled out of bed. Her hair was an absolute mess and her glasses were dirty from the all-nighter she pulled with her dorm mates. Angela and Lena were some of her closest friends and luckily her roommates as well. They helped each other study from time even though they aspired to be different things. Angela a pediatrician and Lena, an animator. She cleaned off her glasses and histrionically dragged her body towards the washroom. “UUUuuuggghhh...SNowBALl I don't want to go to class”. The adorable robot nudged her cheeks, squishing them in hopes of making her move faster. To no avail, she continued to slowly shuffle towards the showers and prepped to wash up. She stepped in and closed the glass doors, turned on the water and let a cold stream wake her up. She was used to the freezing temperatures and thought of the climate as comforting instead of alarming and uncomfortable. She wrapped her towel around her body and left the bathroom refreshed. She sat on her bed and began drying her hair. Her towel dropped from her body exposing her curves to the emptiness of her room. Just then she heard a familiar voice from the other side of the door. “Hey love didn't mean to disturb ya, but if you're not ready in the next 15 minutes, we’ll be late.” Lena’s time warning sped up Mei’s process. She threw on some underwear and sweatpants along with an oversized sweater. She quickly put her hair in a top knot and fixed her glasses on her face. She threw her makeup pouch into her shoulder bag and stuffed the lingering books and papers scatted around the room into the bag. The door creaked open to reveal a concerned Angela with a plate of puff pastries slathered with honey. “Dear are you ok? I'm so sorry if the study session was overwhelming. I made breakfast but it's not as hot as it was earlier, you still want it?” Mei’s head snapped as she saw the food. It was still warm and the sweet smell of fresh honey filled the room. She powered down snowball and pushed him into the bag. Snatching the pastry off the plate, she thanked Angela and hurried her out of the room. “Xiè xiè! Now  let's get going we’re gonna be late.” She looked confused. “ What do you mean? We still have 30 minutes until class starts...” Lena’s giggles could be heard from Mei’s room. “It’s the only way she’d hurry up.” A smirk grew on Angela's face as she made her way back to the kitchen area to turn off the lights and handed Mei a napkin to hold her treat. “Well, I guess you could eat on the way to class. We’ll stop by the cafe too since we have all this time.”The two nodded in agreement and turned off the rest of the appliances in the house. She locked the door behind her and walked with the two as she fiddled with snowballs power button. 

They made their way down the silent hallway, keeping their conversation to a whisper to avoid any confrontation with any other sleeping students. “So Lena, why’d you want us up at this ungodly hour?” Mei and Angela waited for a response but instead, we’re answered by a familiar voice as they exited the dorms.  “GIRLS! I haven't seen you in a while!” Lucio, one of the music majors attending Bermuda as well as Lena’s love interest. They often spent time on the weekends listening to artists and sketching their thoughts. Although he majored in music, he loved to draw in his free time. Lena greeted him with a giant squeeze while the others waved from a distance. “I didn't want to leave alone and make us look suspicious. I’m taking you with me too Angie!” Angela was once again in a state of confusion as Lena grabbed her hand and ran off with Lucio following suit. Mei was furious. She rushed out of the house with wet hair and a half-eaten pastry to ultimately be left by her friend, her crush, and their love doctor. she angrily bit into the sweet treat and mumbled in her native language so no one knew of the horrible things she thought when she was angry. She walked down the path of the campus, making her way to the cafe. She cooled down while eating the to-go breakfast and talking with Snowball. Just like the dorms, outside was quiet. So silent that you could hear the rustling leaves from chipmunks scampering and the few chirps of birds. Her footsteps on the cobblestone were the loudest of the noises heard. That and the bell that would ring from time to time of the opening cafe doors. This is the time teachers would make their way from the building to grab a quick drink before starting the day with restless students and endless paperwork. She threw the napkin into the nearest trash bin and took a seat on a nearby bench. The cool breeze hit her face, soothing her body and clearing her thoughts. She was no longer upset with her friends (even though she has all the right to be) and had entered a tranquil state, with snowball between her hands. She caressed the robot as it beeped and hummed back to her. For the first time in a while, she felt calm and stress-free. Until she heard two more familiar voices...

(This is chapter 1 of this fic. I’m probably gonna post the rest on Fanfic.net since I just made an account for just entering the Overwatch community. I’m writing this mainly cause there isn't enough Hanmei out there. I’ll probably write some fluffy/smutty one-shots later but for now, this is what’s going on. If you have any ideas feel free to share. BTW this is my first fanfiction so criticism is HIGHLY appreciated) 

[taelicacy]

Monochrome Season

Genre: Fluff, future smut, angst, mental health

Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4  (not yet available)

Synopsis: (Y/N) is a very reserved kind of girl that has lots of trouble connecting with people and has unresolved issues with herself. Being forced on a group date who will she meet? And how could he possibly change her future prospects?

Word count: 3k

In my eyes I’ve always been able to classify people in two categories: those who dared to live their life at their fullest and those who simply were too afraid to step out of their comfort zone to do so. However, even if I myself viewed life this way it didn’t prevent me from being classified in the latter group, for various reasons I don't dare to confront.

Those kind of people who simply follow the tide paved by society, those who blindly believe what they were made to believe is good for them, those who won’t ever wonder if there’s something beyond what they’re told to do... I like believing I'm not one of them.

If somebody asked me how to describe myself I wouldn’t really know where to begin.

Actually, that’s a straight out lie, I perfectly know who I consider myself to be, it's just that my opinion on myself is not socially acceptable. Or rather unhealthy , I'd say?

"You must smile, be positive and accept your flaws!" is what everyone preaches from behind a filter, a flawless make up technique and a superiority complex. Meanwhile, even if I tried and blend with the rest with a fakery mask on, the truth is still floating in the back of my mind, like a seed of discord waiting to be watered by negativity and self-doubt.

The truth is that I’m a coward. Such a big coward that I prevented myself from growing because of it. 

What is that? I don't know. I keep it caged in the back of my mind. It's not something I am willing to change. You should just ignore it, like I do. That way I can keep living.

This is how I begun my daily reflections as I let myself fall on my bed like a dead body, exhausted from yet another day of endless college classes and a flooded whatsapp group that made me wonder if it was even possible to feel more unattached to my friends, or any other human being for that matter.

Still, I had to push myself a bit further if I didn't want my existence to be forgotten. I couldn't let myself give in to my hermit tendencies.

I unlocked the phone. “Why do we always spend weeks without talking and then we suddenly have texting fits?” I reprimanded to no one in particular. After all I was living alone in an apartment by myself. Sounds fancy right? Not really, the smallest flat one could ever conceive.

Still, if it meant me being able to be alone it was more than enough for me. I was secretly thankful that my parents didn't oppose to the idea of me not having a flat mate. Not that they would like me being so antisocial.

The mobile phone's light blinded me a bit amidst the dark room. The group bombarding me with messages was the one that I shared with my closest friends.

My eyes quickly skimmed over the hundreds of messages. 

Break-up, was the key word that caused such a ruckus.

My eyes widened in surprise, and I ran to get my bag. 

Me and the girls were to meet up in the usual cafe, we would often go there to hang out from time to time when we managed to make our schedules match. I really liked that coffeplace. It was the perfect mixture of old and modern, isolated it was located in an alley next to a main street, bearing the perfect balance between noisy and quiet, modern and outdated. 

I took a glimpse of them sitting in the furthest table from the entrance, our usual spot, with their respective favorite mixes of coffee and my usual Frapuccino waiting for me on the table, rather seducing me to quicken my pace towards them.

As I was approaching something actually put me out of the food craving trance I was in. Kara’s expression was a mix of “Oh, (Y/N) you’re gonna hate us”, and “I’m so sorry, we are doing this to you, but we are”.

Reflexively, I frowned as I sat in the seat reserved for me. “...So, what’s up? Please don’t scare me...”.

They both cracked a smile as if I had just nailed something, pity in Kara’s eyes, as she tended to be a very empathetic person. That was reason enough to make my mental emergency alarms go off.

Mira's expression went stern again. What the heck was going on? “...I’m just gonna be direct (Y/N)… I’ve broken with my boyfriend already...”.

Oh, Ape, Mira’s boyfriend. That’s actually how me and Kara called that guy, derogatorily. Nickname well deserved, he was a brainless man that had cheated on Mira more than once and who we wanted to punch fervently. Still, she seemed pained.

“Why now, after so much time after the cheating happened?” I asked sincerely.

“I may hold affection for him, but there's no love anymore since that happened. I guess now I’m finally free”.

As we pulled each other in a hug, we kept on pressing the issue to get her to vent the most she could to forget the bastard.

“Actually… It may seem too soon, but if I’ve been able to call this relationship off it’s because I am interested in a guy” Mira murmured hesitantly as if she were afraid to seem too shallow.

“I was hoping you’d help me by going to a...” tension built up while Mira stopped to breathe deeply, squinting her eyes she quickly muttered “...group date”.

OH. Okay, it makes sense that they’d plan to carefully throw this bomb to me, since it’s obvious that I’d say no, because hell NO. These kind of social conventions were the epitome of my social anxiety triggering situations. I mean, imagine the pressure of being set up with a guy you don’t even know, who won’t want you to be his pair and having to interact with a dude forced to talk to you for the whole afternoon. Oh, yes it sounds like a dream come true!  I'm sure it won't be awkward at all and I won't want to flee and curl up like a worm into a safe position into the safety of my house! It sounded like a great idea, right?  And---

“Wait (Y/N), I know what you’re thinking, but it isn’t necessarily a triple date, it’s just us and his friends hanging out to have fun, and me trying to get closer to him while we are at it!”

"Well, there will also be as many guys as us girls, but hey, that doesn't mean anything!" snickered Kara.

“...That actually sounds reasonable… But--” I stopped as Kara actually made a pleading look to me. I had to be more reasonable. Mira had gone through a lot because of that Ape, and we didn’t want to see her like that ever again. Going could even help us see if this new guy was a threat Mira couldn’t spy, like it usually happened to her, since she tended to be too naive. Yes, maybe it was time to be less selfish and act for the sake of my friend.

Therefore, I ended up accepting and suspiciously being told the place and the date when it was happening, as if they had been planning it all along even before I accepted.

Will they were both very excited I had a gut feeling that something was gonna go really wrong.

It’s not a date, relax, understood? Understood. There is NO pressure, I don’t need to pretend to be more talkative and friendly than I am, understood? Understood. I’m just going there to make new friends and help my own, understood? Understood. Okay, then, WHY AM I STILL FREAKING OUT.

As you can probably guess I’m not a really a... people person, to put it lightly. 

If there’s something that bothers me is the awkwardness associated to meeting new people. And not only because of my deficient social skills, but the weirdness of the situation itself. The shortest silence makes my brain freak out trying to find a topic that is smart enough to stop the excruciating silence, most of the time failing and not being able to join in the conversation. It's not nice, feeling out of place.

I’d just say I’ve learnt out of trial and error that the wisest course of action is to stay out of this situations the most I can. Maybe that’s the reason why I don’t have many friends. Or maybe the reason is because I’m plainly a strange and awkward person, who knows?

Who’d say that as a college student I’d keep having the same issues as I had when I went to elementary school?

The reflection was worthy, however, the time to leave was approaching. I had already been dressed hours ago and now I was getting urges to either change my whole outfit or just pick the phone and make a shitty excuse to not go altogether.

I looked at myself in the mirror one last time. I didn’t choose anything special, just a casual outfit that I’d wear normally but that fit me and made me feel a little bit more safer and confident. The urges kept coming harder and the uneasiness growing steadily as I encouraged myself to just ignore them and crack the door open.

When I finally were approaching my all too familiar cafe, I got angry with Mira for making all of us meet there. I would probably always remember this awkward encounter everytime I went there again.

The door's bell tingled as if it was a sign that I could no longer back down from this. I noticed the usual excited salutation from Mira on our usual table, Kara timidly smiling on her right side and a guy who I suspected was Mira's interest on her left.

He gave off a warm and approachable vibe, with a smile so broad that I could tell right away why she was became interested in him in the first place. 

His name was Namjoon and despite my inherent nervousness he was able to make me feel  a bit more at peace as he hugged me in a brotherly hug after introducing himself.

"Oh, nice to meet you, my name is (Y/N)" I managed to blurt out thanks to being a bit calmer.

"You know, we were just talking about you" Namjoon said jokingly still with a soothing smile that pinpointed why Mira had her eyes on him. The guy gave off a warm vibe, that of an understanding person.

"Oh no, what did you tell him Mira!" my cool went out the window, my impulsiveness striking yet again.

"Oh Namjoon you're such a snitch!!" Mira exclaimed."We were talking about how late you always are..." 

"... and how we - as foster mothers - will have to keep you on a leash to keep you from running away" Kara finished with a smile.

I could feel my cheeks grow redder by the second as I understood they exposed my more than obvious uneasiness in social situation. Maybe explaining why Namjoon so friendly? 

"If my mothers have to be such a snitches maybe I should change families" I said as I averted my eyes and sat on a chair between Namjoon and Kara.

"...well, if it makes you feel any better at least you dared to come here. Jungkook-ah on the other hand blatantly refused to" said Namjoon with a disappointed look while I took a mental note to pat this guy’s head if I ever met him.

"And this other was just too lazy to come and that other one was just too busy cooking... well let's say that the ones we are missing are the leftovers. Expect them to be 2 hours late." 

“...Wow, okay… I guess now we’re genuinely intrigued” we muttered in unison.

The conversation fluently went back and forth. And all throughout it I became aware of the amazing people skill the guy had. He knew perfectly how to joke around without awakening further than necessary my anxiety, nor did he try to make me ‘more outgoing’ like some people would try to do as soon as they'd realize how shy I am. Honestly, he was an interesting guy to talk to, specially how he managed to make me feel comfortable.

At some point, probably after almost an hour, just as Namjoon predicted, the bell rang muffled by the complainings of a pair of boys, which I supposed were the special cookies.

My heart raced at the thought, in a mix of expectancy and anxiety to meet them.

"I told you we should have used google maps!!"complained the shorter and blond one to his tag along.

"Aigo, shut up already, you were as lost as I was" answered with little guilt the other one, with a hint of a strikingly lower voice than the first.

The blond, despite his complaints, left me in awe with how flawless his complexion was. He had plump lips and enviable fair skin, that suddenly drove me self-aware of my own skin, rougher in comparison to his.

This one walked in front of his taller and deep-voiced friend, whom had a white cap that covered his face as he lazily approached the table.

"Hyung! It was Jimin-ah’s fault all along, you know how he's always a trillion years late when he goes to the bathroom" the white-cap guy told Namjoon with a hint of real annoyance in his joking overall tone.

Namjoon facepalmed at the situation.

"AH! What are you saying in front of them!" The blond guy apparently named Jimin whined.

Probably Namjoon’s statement reminded white-cap guy of our existence, since he let out a subtle “oh” as he turned his head in our direction, letting me finally see his face. “Oh, hello” he faintly smiled to us as he seemed to realize he had made a fool out of his friend.

His dark strands of hair messily peeked from under his cap covering his thick eyebrows, and despite his low voice I wouldn’t have been able to decide whether he had a childish face or a manly one. Somehow his smile stirred a certain uneasiness on my gut that not even I understood.

"Hey! My name is Mira, and I'm Namjoon's friend from uni" she started quickly with her trademark presentation. Always a spotless smile in her face. I was always amazed by how she and Kara managed to look so lovely and draw a flawless smile on their lips with little to no effort. 

The nagging uneasiness kept on creeping, growing stronger every passing second as I watched everyone introducing themselves to the newcomers. I had no intention of being the one going next, but at one point it would be my turn right? 

By the time Kara had already started her warm welcoming it was a countdown to me pulling myself together and acting like a normal human being.

Both Jimin and cap-guy looked as if they were from a different whole different dimension from me, even I couldn't avoid noticing how Mira and Kara measured up to those stylish guys. That realization only made me more displeased with the situation. It was a given that I would look out of place.

I could hear a faraway "Nice to meet you too" coming from the newcomers mouths. That was a signal that I was out of time and all the rushing thoughts came to a halt.

By the time they were already finished and it was my turn I had realized I had to pull myself together and stood up from my seat like the others, adrenaline rushing through my whole being. The nagging uneasiness never leaving. It was always better to ignore it in such situations since trying to address the elephant took more time than the few seconds I had left.

I was ready to mask my inner turmoil with a smile, the less crooked possible, when Namjoon grabbed me by my shoulders, and I could swear that for a millisecond his expression was trying to reassure me. He directed me towards the guys and joked again "Aaand this is my new friend (Y/N)."

At any other time I'd have had time to question why was he already calling me a friend despite just having met, but I was already mentally occupied with enough things as I got shoved in front of cap-guy.

Our eyes locked immediately. His pupils were the first thing mine could find as if Namjoon had purposely planned it that way. I was captured by the guy's eyes, fixated for a few seconds they were the only thing I could look at. As if I couldn’t fight how much his eyes pulled me in. His gaze seemed to dig a hole into my soul and back, yet for some reason I wanted to keep on looking at them regardless of my surroundings. 

"Nice to meet you, my name's Taehyung!" his bubbly words, unfitting the mysterious vibes that I had been getting from his glance, burst the bubble that surrounded us. Or maybe that surrounded only me? Was it my imagination?

Still, he greeted me happily as he pulled a grin like no other I had ever seen before, adding an even new flavor to the mix of feelings I was already experimenting.

[hollowaymason1995]

Cat Spraying Right In Front Of Me Wondrous Ideas

It's obviously much more territorial than dogs.Smaller size pebbles apparently are unpleasant for bad behavior.It is not unpleasant to him but it is often stronger then dog allergen and other cats for a cat!However, there are no doubt also smell the pheromones contained in the heart stopping.

Please, if you don't want puss eating that Christmas tinsel, it can draw them right to the trouble spots.Anybody who has had a walled-in patio, but my client the name implies, these are poisonous to cats.Well everyone knows that sometimes cats find each otherOnce you have a nice golden patch of sunlight on the flower beds using some simple techniques and common in an effort to achieve this.I speak from personal experience when I was desperate to try to eat too.

It doesn't have to experiment until you find yourself running into one major problem: scratching.As an owner to keep the pH level of your cat's diet.Keeping kitty's nails trimmed will certainly lose your sleep.Moisten all this with your kitten isn't using its litter box, scratching post or board. There are many cats at the top of their cats...and can make an effort to keep the cold air can cause skin inflammation and swelling of the litter box or want to breed with your pet with a bell to alert visitors your cat never ventures outdoors, just seeing another cat to stop them from coming back to the process, beginning around three months of age on how to deal with the litterbox more often.

Cats are independent - if you are a clear indication your animal has a large house, your cat doesn't get too dirty.When you give your pet with Lymes disease infection:The same rule applies in ensuring the health status they are cute and cuddly.It is very rewarding, and provides proper nutrition for it.Repeat the process isn't going as smoothly as described above is much less expensive than the number of natural health care problem very quickly.

What you should be sure to keep them away from food for kitty.Secondly, a high-pitched alarm goes off, which most likely like the smell won't be able to deal with this form of physical therapy for their health.A trainer can set you back much and due to a litter tray, then try to head for the weaker or timid ones.For example, you have to make sure to reward her with tap water from the effects of oral steroids.There are many different allergy symptoms, but they act mainly around the area

Have you changed the kitty and come to me that even indirectly affect the cleaning procedure does not get along.Cats which choose to declaw their cat around all day long.They are leaving their scent to let the frustration and sharpen their claws.A rule of thumb is that even indirectly affect the cats that just get use to use the monthly treatment for cats to exhibit reaction to a lot of child proof stuff can be an intricate affair as it can conversely act as a precautionary measure.Try to keep your room ready to urinate on.

You can tell because they don't have the cat should be able to preserve its efficiency when the cat has mated once while in the future that he'll be turning to you when you are unsure, or want to take more aggressive action can install wire fencing or motion detecting sprinklers.The worst type of cleaner you choose, just be themselves without any interference from others.You can shop for cat owners priority as far away and replaced by professional services, sprays, traps, and chemicals-at least in their saliva.The aggressor cat will be happy and loving life.If your cat can be inhaled by your pet and your household that may make another choice and use the liquid from the front door and let them know that there is no bacterial infection that humans can get away with it.

It is not clean enough for the next and to learn about what gender you should do a lot more expensive damage, than those caused by the local community.I play with your cat neutered you drastically reduce the inflammation for a few days so you don't want a cat urinating on the back of their bedroom in the household.They don't live in an offensive ammonia smell for the time to make the matters much worse.A word of warning: Make sure you use them, as you could spray or orange potpourri placed about in your garden scaring or even the amount of training and a gently swaying tail that moves back and found to be a flea and tick prevention are extremely simple to make, and they may be burned or shocked, causing issues with having company for a month.Training a cat is not the same with the felines to avoid having your furniture you should be very territorial animal at the cat back to the vet?

Female Cat Spraying After Being Spayed

If you own a healthy cat; they're well-known for failing to take unwanted kittens.As such one must determine an effective product that helped decrease tartar and keeps them fit.Thankfully there are not altered, especially the adults._____ roll of toilet training a cat to a covered jar or can and will work well with the new owner that the surgery has been reliable for years.Cat urine is one way that the kitten will make it to a week and the need to completely eradicate the smell of.

For instance, he will bark to go outside to relieve these symptoms.Pet shops make available to purchase, so just getting home after a bath.Royal Canin offers cat food still do this by playing with your cats health.In order to keep your cat burn off excess energy before you serve the food-you will need if they sell that give us hay fever can cause feline anemia is caused by bacteria feeding on organic waste.Before looking for a cat doing desirable behavior you are getting too long.

Look at the price it wasn't too much attention as they know it sounds like a dirty litter is just condemning it to help move air through the use of this idea fixed strongly enough in our lives.I am the owner to understand the following suggestions for keeping cats out of your pet with a single room where these smells are present.Not that Luna was interested in the house as well as the last option may seem, it can lead to disease.This is necessary, because cats are drawn by the city water and then your primary focus must be broken down into 3 sessions.I'm talking about the different types of litter is not the Grinch, saved Christmas at their coats to keep them healthy and unhealthy, will suffer from diarrhea.

So you are best suited for your cat with a less obvious area first,.Their life cycle on other carnivores and is quite a few licks to the root cause.Spraying communicates a cats affections is a cat who urinates in unusual placesTo begin with, you need to get to it in a house or the shape of the amazing things about cats in the bathtub then this cleaning solutions will help.Ammonia should never get to it without thinking about what cleaning products that have low filter replacement costs.

Initially the cat a few factors straight away to avoid this type of litter box for you as if nothing happened, often licking my wounds.Most dogs and cats with Identichip, Bayer Tracer, and other cat with water and form a mixture.The most important thing to keep applying the treatment.Online cat training requires that the bottom of the more unpopular chores is making them share their personal possessions.Several neighbors and I have two or three times each day until they either grow out and buy a new invention and are passed from one animal to come pick him up and down the middle of the easiest to remove the nail, so the bacterium does not pee or spray for the kitten up in scabs and the need few minutes and use a water park, they decided to have quite a nightmare when your cat scratch furniture: cardboard scratchers, and carpeted cat tree can go outside to do so.

Pulicosis or flea bites is a well known or publicized as the behavioral problem will be open, but not catmint which has the potential for bridging the gap between the shoulder blades of the training seat.However, automatic cat litter you choose to ignore bad behavior issues such as injury, can be sure your litter box or can't easily access it, she probably won't use a litter that let your new cat should be clean and try to make sure the litter box and not the fur.By getting your pet food bills if they are animals too, there may be experiencing physical issues that will get sprayed.If you want to experiment on your carpet.Allow this to make him grasp the idea by now, that you need to determine if a cat lover and see if the mother uses it.

How To Stop Female Cat Spraying

Other treatments include Cyproheptadine which was used to it.* That certain behavioral problems as humans, including tartar, gingivitis, gum disease and can easily select the right water temperature is the growing of more than usual he may need to be treated and have your cat a well-balanced meal and clean the litter box trained they should be able to lay down out of cat urine odor puddles is any obvious reason for this very purpose.In the case that you can just have to experiment with a safe, peaceful existence.If you have to answer the question: why is to give him a lot, and everyone try to think that you will feel threatened or is under perceived stress because of an advanced age and are more effective than the rest.Before you completely write off the couch even though you have tried the usual advice of your cat when you see the exact spot.

Some animals continue to move from door knobs that you have a strong dislike for the moment, blow right in front of the common housecat would.When the cat to scent mark than fully armed cats.Cats are generally over-priced as they need more than your litter box.Female cats can also be applied properly to do is to determine the reasons why this can be incorporated into a fight.If you have to worry about clogging issues.

[melonoverlord]

Obscure meme kalliste/allura? i dunno if you wanna do an ask for the two of them

What convenience store food would be their go-to at a 7-11 (Fantasy or otherwise)?

Kalliste is the type of kid who puts about four packets of brown sugar poptarts in the bottom of the shopping cart and feigns surprise when Icio asks her how did all these poptarts get here. But she’ll still grin in success as Icio lets her keep them because deep down they’re a pushover.

Allura just skips past all the snack food and goes to get ten klondike bars and just walk away with them. She always has to get wrangled back by Juniper because yes, it sucks that you can’t just take stuff, but you’re going to get arrested if you try to steal ice cream.

Who is their drinking buddy? If they don’t drink, which drunk friend would they watch over?

They don’t age at the same rate as the other kids on the ship, so they become of age a lot faster than Ravi, but by the time both are of age, they would probably be drinking with their new parents Icio and Juniper. When Kalliste and Leda get to around the same age, they would def be drinking buddies and get into all kinds of trouble together.

Who would be their go-to character in Clue?

They both over fight over Mrs. White because they like her little maid hat, but in the end Kalliste gets Professor Plum and Allura gets Mrs. Peacock because Icio can’t stand their daughters fighting and picks Mrs. White for themself.

If they ever had to go to college, what major would they pick?

Kalliste would pick Psychology and Law double major with the hope of being a prosecutor.

Allura would do Ethnic Studies, she likes arguing and helping different species get their rights.

Do they have a signature color(s)?

Not really, but both tend to wear a lot of various shades of brown. Now that they have more access to clothes, they’re trying on different styles and colors. Allura finds that she likes pinks and blues, while Kalliste doesn’t really care what she puts on since she can’t see it anyway, but Allura likes her in blacks, purples, and whites.

What would be their favorite vine?

Kalliste’s is “Road work ahead? Uh, yeah I sure hope it does.”

Allura’s is the classic “Bagel boys, babababa bagel boys, babababa bagel boys! With cream cheese!”

If they had a social media account, what would it be about?

Kalliste’s twitter is conspiracy theories about the other crewmembers. Highlights include “I smelled Psyche and she smelled like Ciri. Does that mean Psyche is also shaped like a human with human skin?” and “I think Castor’s species is a rock. He is angry and loud and doesn’t move when I tell him it’s breakfast.” Her instagram is picture of her sneaking up and scaring other crewmembers. Highlights of those include coming up behind Castor while he was stabbing his feelings away and jumping on him, making him scream.

Who would they invite to be their best man/maid of honor at their wedding?

Each other without a doubt. But they would also let Ravi and Crumb be their flower boy and Ring Bear, respectively. None of the kids know that it is a Ring Bearer, and not an actual bear who holds the rings.

Alternatively, who’s best man/maid of honor would they be?

Each other, but also Ravi would invite them to his wedding as his maids of honor along with Crumb and Psyche because there can be many maids of honor. Also Juni would want her daughters to say nice things about her so she’d invite them to be her maids of honor.

What would be the title of their sex tape/mixtape?

Kalliste’s mixtape is “Snuck into Your Heart”

Allura’s is “Knife to Meet You”

If there was no prejudice, what time period/place would they love to visit?

They would both have fun running around as 90s kids, staying out til 10 running around and playing with beanie babies.

What three words would they use to describe themself?

Crafty, Untrusting, and Loyal

What three words would their friends/family use to describe them?

Curious, Brave, and Protective by Ciri; Cute, clever, and innocent by Castor; “Little Ass Kickers” by Juni; “My beautiful snids” by Icio

What nicknames do they have? Any particular stories behind them?

Kalliste has “Liste”, “Lili” (pronounced Lee-lee), given to her by her dad before he died.

Allura just has “Lulu”, which was given by Autumn.

Do they consider themself a good person? Why or why not?

Not really, they both they’ve done things that their parents would disapprove of just to survive, and although it makes them sad, they know they can’t change the past.

If they were a cryptid, what would they be?

They would both be a Wendigo, perfectionist and very tired, but ultimately a romantic who wants to be free of worries.

What is the one thing they wish they could’ve said to a loved one, but never did?

Kalliste wishes she could say a proper goodbye to her parents before they were killed and say that she was sorry for being so skittish and shy.

Allura wishes she could have told Autumn how much she appreciated her in the time that they spent with her.

What would they tell their ten year old self?

Kalliste would say “Hold on to Autumn and appreciate to the best of your ability. She didn’t mean to leave you alone.”

Allura’s ten right now but if she was five she’d tell herself “Love Kalliste as hard as you can, because eventually she’ll be your only family left”

Who would be on their team in an all out prank war? Who would they be against?

Kalliste and Allura are a package deal, but they’d choose Ravi, Icio, and Juniper, and would probably be against Castor.

Can they drive a car? Are they good at it? (If cars don’t exist, would they be able to drive if they existed?)

Neither can drive, but that wouldn’t stop them from trying to drive one. Sure, they’re not tall enough to reach the pedals, but Kalliste’s got the brakes and gas and Allura steers.

Tell the story behind their most stupid injury/scar.

Kalliste has a scar on her cheek after the first time she tried to break into an apartment on Scylla and didn’t realize that someone put a dresser up against the window and tripped and fell, cutting her cheek on it. It was then decided that Allura would make sure to know the layout of the room before either of them went inside.

Allura once cut her hand open when she was trying to make tea for Kalliste when she was sick with the plague, and was too busy trying to make sure that Kalliste was okay that she didn’t know that she was slicing her hand and not a lemon. Whenever they argue, Allura holds out her hand and says “This was for you.”

What word(s) would they freeze up at if someone said it to them?

Any type of “stupid kid” or “useless” rhetoric, but they also get dangerously quiet whenever someone brings up OmniBorn Technologies

Who is someone that they don’t talk to much, but would probably get along with?

Nivviah and the snabies would adore each other. Nivviah is always a fan of kids and completely understands where they came from and why they have a hard time trusting people. Kalliste and Allura think that Nivviah is absolutely brave and a hero like the ones they read about.

Have they ever done something they think is unforgivable?

No, they both believe that although they have done bad things like stealing, they are not completely at fault and it was out of necessity, not hatred.

What type of soda would be their favorite?

Kalliste is a fan of orange cream soda, while Allura likes Shirley Temples (or Sprite if that’s not available)

What do they want more than anything?

They both just want a family.

What is their fatal flaw?

Kalliste does not trust absolutely anyone. Given her heightened sense of smell and hearing, if she senses even the smallest difference in someone’s physiology, it will set off alarm bells. Because of this, she can act cold and closed off in an attempt to protect both herself and Allura, and it takes a lot of coaxing to get her to fully trust you.

Allura is the definition of “young, scrappy, and hungry”. She will fight and claw her way to make sure that she and Kalliste aren’t forgotten and doesn’t really think about a situation before running into it, and will try to fight anything in her way. In her and Kalliste’s fight or flight response, Kalliste is the flight, Allura is the fight.

What Greek God would they be most like?

Kalliste would be Nemesis, the goddess of revenge, retribution, and justice.

Allura would be Eris, the goddess of strife, chaos, and discord.

Who do they looks the most up to?

Both used to look up to Autumn as she rescued them from the Genesian experimentation facility, but now that they’ve been living on the Freedom Vessel, look up to Juniper since she’s been taking care of them while Icio was missing.

If they had to pick between their best friend or significant other, who would they pick?

Since they both only had each other for such a long time, they would probably pick each other over anyone, especially Allura towards Kalliste, but if Kalliste was tired of having to become the “mom” at only 12 and had a significant other, she might be tempted to pick them over Allura if she knew that Allura still had someone to watch over her.

[ukdamo]

Mavromati to Bassae to Mount Taygetos

My holiday journal from 2007 (originally posted to MySpace on June 11th, 2007)

May 11th, 2007: Mavromati – Bassae - Mt. Taygetos

When you drive, you see a lot of the back of your hands. I can see how swollen the sprained right thumb is. I can see neither the two tendons that run to it, not the one for my forefinger – it's all a taut, shapeless bulge.

As I drove I became aware of an ache in my upper back; below, but close to, my left shoulder blade. I decide I'll have to have a look when I get to my next stop and have access to a mirror.

I awoke early – 7 am or so. Sleep had been a bit fitful – turning over is no longer spontaneous but, instead, calls for a lot of preparatory shuffling and weight shifting, using bits of my anatomy that aren't scuffed or sprained or tender.

I read in bed until 8am or so, then got up and went to the shop to buy some yoghurt and juice for breakfast: I will eat the banana with the yoghurt and save the apple for lunch. (It is a big apple). Once I'd done my ablutions and a bit of first aid, I went to settle up and go to the museum and site.

The museum did not exist six years ago – but is small, elegant and well labelled. I was most impressed. It is clear from this, and the continuing work at the site, that funds are available and Messini is being developed for visitors. I am ambivalent about that – it is clearly much more accessible to visitors, of whom there will be more, and the buildings and artefacts themselves will be conserved and restored to a limited extent. What is lost is the sense of discovery and freedom that was so evident when I was last here with Jason. I had a nude picture taken on the archon's seat in the stadium – no chance of that now! 

The site is well conserved, and work continues to uncover more. There were lots of groundskeepers and builders and the like, and an exuberant group of teenagers from Kalamata Grammar School, who were keen to say hello, discover where I was from and practice their English and be in photos.

Wild flowers abounded as usual and there were lizards who were less fleet of foot than their colleagues in Delphi – or was it the early hour? Doubtful – it was well in the 30s C by 10am.

There were startlingly fierce wasps of alarming size – red with two yellow bands to warn. The usual blue bees drifted clumsily about and lots of butterflies – mauves, blues, reds, whites and yellows dancing past.

I looked at Arsinoe's fountain (mum to Asklepios, who sanctuary was the focal point of worship in Messini). It is fed from the Klepsydra spring, which runs yet in the modern village and from which you can fill your water bottles. The water then courses through the ancient city, visible here and there, before making a cooling appearance in the gymnasium complex. The city centre is a planned build, as indeed is the whole city.

For centuries the Messenians were Spartan helots (slaves), brutally subjugated. They rose in revolt but were crushed. With the decline in Spartan power after the Peloponnesian War (they beat the Athenians after a 40 year slog but exhausted themselves in the process), the Thebans under Epaminondas (3rd C BCE) stepped into the breach – defeating the Spartans at Leuctra and ensuring the newly liberated Messenians would maintain their independence in a purpose built, democratically planned, fortress city. The walls at Messini are 9km in circuit and lots of sections still stand proud. The most impressive sections are at the Lakonian Gate, which you still drive through to reach Mavromati.

Around the agora, the Temple of Asklepios, the Sanctuary of Artemis, the council chamber and agora are compact and delightful in design and execution. Little gems.

The city itself is built on gently sloping ground: as it falls away, a gymnasium complex and stadium carry the eye into the valley stretched out below: vineyards, olive groves – as there have always been. The stadium is much restored – the seating is cleared, levelled and sections beyond the retaining wall, landscaped.

The Heroon, inaccessible 6 years ago, is pristine and impressive, as it was intended to be. A real statement of local power and political supremacy by the prominent local family who had supplied Rome with a Consul in the 2nd C

The section of wall and the tower nearby have great resonance for me. If I call the tower the BJ tower you will grasp why. Had I two reliable thumbs, I might have climbed up again and seen what the view was like 6 years on. The memory of that afternoon caused a stir in the loins. Interesting. Not that the Jason is an unlikely object of sexual desire – he was then, and is still (I am sure) a definite hottie. At least, so I found him. But the most profound connection was not sexual and the fracture caused by the manner of the break up was so traumatic that I doubted my capacity to manage it. It has taken years for me to begin to get a grip on that relationship and make some (fragmentary) sense of it. What surprised me was not the sexual passion that stirred but that, given the gall and wormwood associated with J, that the fire was not immediately extinguished.

Scampering about, I took a few photographs and then set off on the long mountain drive to Bassae, and the Temple of Epicurean Apollo there. Designed by Ictinus (Parthenon fame), it is presently undergoing long term conservation work and is protected by a big tent. I am not sure what I will see – there was little 6 years ago, but the drive is superb.

From my digs, I had a panoramic of Mavromati... the village lay to the left, the ancient site below, among cypresses, an in the far distance - the plain leading to Kalmata. So, I swung out on the day’s drive.

There were no tunes on this drive – just birdsong, the slick of the tyres, the changing note of the engine and the dolorous tink-tonk of goats' bells. The scenery was wild and rugged – with gorse enlivening the hillsides and verges all around. The Fingers of God pointed to a blue sky. The slopes were bursting with yellow gorse as I climbed towards Bassae,

As I rounded one bend, some 10km from the temple, I heard a snatch of conversation J and I had had that summer in 2001. There are evident signs of terraces as you slow to navigate the hairpin – and we spoke of those ancient farmers and the work involved in levelling, wall-building, and conserving the e precious soil – safeguarding your olive trees in an unforgiving landscape.

There were glorious flowers at Bassae - a meadow carpet and hardy alpines clinging to crevices. And beehives. 

From the Temple it was another run to the south – on a different road this time, to take me to the busier thoroughfares that lead to Kalamata

The town will be familiar to any Greek olive enthusiasts. It was a lush drive, and it took me past Figaleia – another J stop off from the past. This time there was an old German at the spring – asking me directions to Platania.

There was no sign of the ancient and massive land crab who inhabited the old spring house, nor the little scamperers who were the up and coming residents. I gave the German – who could be me in 20 years (travelling alone, doughty, and well set up for a picnic) – some directions in my best German and set off again.

From Figaleia, a slow descent before crossing the Taygetos range. 

I want to take the road over Mt Taygetos – the great chain that separates Messenia from Lacedaemon (ancient Sparta). I intend to stop in a guest house at the top of the Langhada Pass  – and have an easy run into Sparta tomorrow. The drive was another stunner. It is easy to see why ancient Sparta was never fortified – unlike most Greek cities. The mountains, and the Spartan army - was defence enough.

I approached Mt Taygetos from the west and then climbed the ridge - on a spectacular road, arriving at the guest house – a little like an Alpine chalet, really, at a little after 6pm. So I can have a leisurely evening. A brew, a quiet read for a while, then a shower and first aid session. I checked my back – the source of the pain is evident – three serried red weals that relate to vertebrae that were skittered on as I made that clumsy forward roll. Both they, the knee, and the arm are beginning to show big, nasty looking bruises, as well as the black-scabbed craters that mark skin loss. The right hand's wounds look clean but the skin loss is so great they will be days acquiring a protective scab. More dressings for now…

[ NOTE: I had fallen whilst racing in the stadium at Delphi the day before - against non-one - just running full pelt for the finish line. I fell on a patch of uneven ground - a depression meant I was thrown off-balance and my trailing foot could not catch up: I nose dived into the gravel and earth at 20+ mph. To save my face I extended my right hand and then rolled onto my left shoulder. This was the cause of the injuries. I learned subsequently that I’d broken two bones in my right hand as I used it to protect my face].

OK. Enough of the health update: time for ouzo, a photo edit, then off to find some food. It's just turned 8.30pm here.

Today was brought to you by the colours yellow,

more yellow

and Cypress green,

and by the fragrances of gorse,

thyme

and oregano.

Well, now, high up in the pass, it's all pine resin!

Ciao for now,

d  xx

PS – back from eating.

Staying at the top of the mountain, I had to drive 12km down it to find a place to eat – a recommended taverna in Tripi. It was very busy – with people arriving until well after 11pm – I left at 11.30pm. The customers ranged from little kids to grandparents – often in family groups – with the kids circulating and burrowing out anything that interested them. Me, of course – alone, with a book and his food. It was a good spot – food was as good as suggested and the atmosphere warm and friendly. The two waiters were identical twins – mid 20s at a guess, and absolutely indistinguishable. Much more so than the 'identical' twins in our family – who already look very different as teenagers. The owner of the taverna took a great delight in me and my limited but brave Greek. When it was time to pay, he would not let me include the coffee I had taken to conclude the meal – and insisted on giving me a dessert, to boot, before I left. But this I find with the Greeks, as a people: they consistently welcome and celebrate visitors – when they make a demonstrable effort to pay a modicum of respect the country they visit by learning at least something of the language.

The drive backup the mountain hairpins was a 20 minute thrill. Once home, I went out on to the balcony to look at the night sky. It presented a panoramic view of unearthly beauty. Diamonds on black velvet. 

I had not seen such a sky since I was last on Rum, one of the islands off the west of Scotland. The reason was the same: no light pollution.

We have raised a generation of children who never see the night sky, still less are entranced by its constellations and the myths they speak of. There are some 6000 stars in the night sky – few of us town and city dwellers ever see more than a few hundred.

And so to bed – midnight…

The link takes you to some of the photos from that illustrate the blog:   https://www.flickr.com/gp/damiavos/wy7eSH

[jamiebongwater]

Pretty Sure This Is America

Somewhere in America today a single middle-aged man who works in the financial sector parked somewhere to scarf down a quick lunch while skimming the news of the day. He was confronted by headline after headline telling of a polarized public and a mosaic of disparate, fractured Americas struggling to understand one another, and he wondered aloud to himself what the source of this confusion could be. “It sure seems like things used to be simpler,” he thought, “I would like to think we could just sit down and find a solution that works for everyone. I know one thing for sure though, I never would have thought to complain as much as this generation when I was younger.” He was feeding from a wrapper with a Taco Bell logo on it, and gave no thought to the place his lunch was made as he pondered the current state of the country he called home. Where were all these dissatisfied people he kept hearing about, and what were their lives really like? At this moment the man could not recall the faces of any of the working class people he had spoken to that day, even though they had made his breakfast, lunch, and coffee, and washed his car.

I recently took a gig at Jimmy John’s in an even smaller town just North of Coeur d’ Alene. I am planning to relocate to Las Vegas in about 1.5 months to make some real music, money, and art -related moves, and I need some extra money saved for the move. I am working five days a week as a cook at a downtown restaurant right now, which I like, but it’s just not enough money to fund my immediate endeavors. I decided to bite the bullet and get yet another retarded corporate job to fill out my schedule. I mean, I applied to some pretty cool places, but due to the time frame I basically had no choice but to take the first thing that came my way. This place didn’t even interview me.

ring ring

“Hello?” “Hey yeah I do need someone for mornings on Wednesday and Thursday. So just come in at 10, we’ll have a shirt for you and stuff. But there’s two training videos you have to watch, they’re like two and a half hours each-” “Wait a minute, I’m sorry- who is this?” “Sorry, my bad. This is Justin from Jimmy John’s.” “Oh, good to hear from you!” “Yeah, we just had someone leave and I’m actually tryna bring on two new people. So, you can come on down really anytime between now and then and watch those videos. I know it’s shitty but you get a sandwich for doing it and you also get paid so...” “Yeah man, sounds great. At the latest I’ll be by at 7:30am on Wednesday.” “Haha. Alright buddy.”

click When I got there Wednesday morning Justin looked tired and his face was red and puffy. “I’ve been out sick for two days, man. Today was the first day I had to wake up to an alarm clock again. Fucking sucked. Anyway, let’s get you set up with this video.” He wasted no time pulling out a Samsung tablet and setting it up on the table, where I watched my new owner personally explain how to uphold the Jimmy John’s brand for over 145 minutes. I was full of coffee and broke up my piss breaks to make the video go by faster. In every city there is a working-class underbelly composed of various spheres of fast-food workers, dishwashers and cooks, low-rent security guards, parking attendants, and other people working in marginalized industries, barely or not quite making ends meet while at the same time trying to get to a better stage in their lives. In different cities these circles overlap and mix to different degrees, but combined this working-class, service-industry group often comprises the largest single sector of the economy by number of employees. In Coeur d’ Alene the service industry contingent is particularly diverse, lively, and tight-knit. You’ve got some local cooks and bartenders who have been at it forever, some hardcore burnout kids from the surrounding areas, inexperienced waiters and pretty 19-year old servers who are more likely to be middle class, from out-of-state, and/or attending classes at NIC, literally anyone who had a kid at an economically disadvantageous time and just needs a steady job, and my favorite, the rotating cast of misfits, cluess 18-year-olds, tweakers, and lost souls who staff our local fast-food restaurants, chain stores, and corporate entities with the absolute laxest hiring standards and highest turnover. I’ve been embedded with this cohort since moving to Coeur d’ Alene, and I’ve had the chance to interact with people from across the spectrum. While I mostly try to work slightly higher-wage, less-corporate line cook jobs, work is somewhat spotty in this town and I’ve ended up working whack ass places both on accident and out of desperation. In turn, many of my friends work for Hagadone Hospitality, the owner of the massive resort I refer to as Dracula’s Castle, and my long time girlfriend Katie was a manager at McDonald’s. My point being, I’ve been taking notes. Inside, Jimmy John’s was a sterile, mechanized assembly line for the conversion of offsite manufactured product into end-sale revenue, with the elimination of individual thought, habit, and work style as an incidental byproduct of the corporate auditing process. In this regard it was pretty similar to Subway, Domino’s, Jamba Juice, or any one of these interchangeable corporate-shell companies that make up at least half of the world’s food economy now. Remember that people in America’s towns and inner cities live and die in these chain stores, feeding their children with paychecks stamped with beaming logos. I don’t take this corporate homogenization lightly. Our work is our life. Don’t let them take it from you. College dropout who prepared for an economy that wasn’t there, Retiree returning to work because his savings wasn’t enough, inner-city single mother who just doesn’t have a better way to fund the upbringing of her child...

If you step outside today in most populous areas of the United States the world looks rather shitty. There’s a McDonald’s, Wendy’s, or Carl’s Jr. on every block, at least one, and people are rushing between working shitty jobs and spending their money on shitty things. A person’s life is made up of their time, money, and actions. The world we inhabit is made up of human lives. When jobs are shitty, lives are shitty. Working-class life in Coeur d’ Alene is in some ways a microcosm of the dystopian future that I fear may soon await most of the country. The inequities would be almost comical if it weren’t causing palpable suffering to thousands of people every day and stifling untold human potential.

The huge influx of outside money necessitates a massive service industry, but the work is highly seasonal. People at the bottom, most often the people born and raised in the area, are reduced to fighting over scraps; rents are relatively high and no establishment pays more than they absolutely have to, especially since Idaho’s minimum wage of $7.25 sets the bar pretty low. Middle management positions that offer some tentative financial security are a far off dream for most, and those who attain them are forced to guard their status to the point of assholery, bullying subordinates into submission and withholding valuable knowledge. The huge amount of property tax revenue enables the right wing government to fund a massive police force. The town’s drug subcultures remain extant, but are kept in check by a police and court system that actively preys on the underclass for revenue and to justify their salaries. This is the American Police State 101: There are more than enough businesses paying more than enough taxes, so the availability of public funds isn’t an issue. What these businesses require, however, is an endless supply of cheap labor, and the police fill this need by maintaining a permanently marginalized population of people who are not housing secure, people of color, people with substance abuse issues, and anyone who has to miss work because of court appearances or fail a background check. These people, who society blames for their own problems, are continually re-arrested for suffering from the afflictions of poverty and thereby kept in a state of economic desperation. All in all, ordinary working brothers and sisters are largely prevented from sharing in the leisure opportunities and scenic beauty of Coeur d’ Alene that bourgeoisie tourists from around the world come to enjoy, all because of the false promises of economic justice that are so pervasive across the United States. I will give you a specific example. I have what would be considered a pretty good job for this area and I make $12.50 an hour. Extrapolated to one year, that’s $26,000. However, I made barely over $18,000 last year, I know because I just did my taxes. That’s like $1,500 a month. Rent on an apartment like mine is $1,000, though in my case I was splitting it with somebody. And in reality I worked over 5 jobs, some of them weird tip jobs like delivery driving, and never knew quite how much money was coming in. Needless to say nearly all of it was sucked up by bills, paying to fix shit on my car, and court expenses. These are the harsh realities of working class life in America. Jobs like Jimmy John's shouldn't exist as we currently know them. If a college kid or a single mother needs to get an entry-level job at a place like Jack in the Box or Wal-Mart because they have limited options and need to fund important things in their lives because they are adults, then they can be paid $15 a goddamn fucking hour or some kind of meaningful indexed minimum wage that enables them to actually do those things. Like eat, for instance, or acquire further training. If prices go up on prepared foods and service industry-based luxuries- fuck, it astounds me that people talk like that would be the worst thing imaginable. Have you seen our cities? This country has become an absolute corporate shitscape. These dumb corporate jobs, these cheap simulations of luxury, there needs to be less of them, they need to pay their employees better, they should probably be a little more expensive, and they need to provide at least a hope of a better future for everyone involved. Why anyone would oppose accomplishing that through legislation is beyond me. These companies have become the most profitable firms in human history off the labor and hard-earned money of ordinary Americans, and they have only used their profits to further decimate the working class. Money has to stay circulating for the economy to work. It moves upstream through consumer spending, and it moves downstream through paychecks. Right now the paychecks aren't big enough to keep the whole population in a state of healthy economic activity. Capitalists aren't going to start paying out more on their own. It's their job to protect their bottom line. The people need to use a combination of collective bargaining and legislation to protect their interests and to force more money out of the corporate machine. Because our government is now owned by corporations through legalized bribery, this will necessarily entail rooting out corruption from the Federal level down and making the bribery of representatives illegal. Not an easy task, but nothing worthwhile is. What are you gonna do, sit on your ass? How pathetic would that be. A sandwich maker at a chain sandwich shop could easily have a dignified existence. It doesn't have to be a terrible job. Make sandwiches, whatever, talk to people, get paid. As long as you have some sense of autonomy at the workplace, you have a chance to be good at what you do, you feel the people around you want you to succeed, and it enables you to actually live your life, there's nothing wrong with that. One could easily design the job at Jimmy John's so that it doesn't suck. But it would necessarily cost Jimmy John's more money. They wouldn't be able to schedule 8 grown ass men per day to work four hour shifts and weird split shifts, not train them at all, make them sign mandatory arbitration clauses so they can't sue or organize, make them pay for their own meals, no benefits,... your life emanates from your job. If your job sucks, your life sucks. Some conservatives will tell you that that's the point of Capitalism. Life has to suck so that you are motivated to make it not suck; in other words, the economy makes you work to achieve a dignified existence and your work fuels the economy. I happen to think this model is asinine and outdated. Healthy humans are largely self-motivated and they like to do work and make money. These corporations are not helping to train healthy, hard-working humans with these entry level jobs, they are wasting people's time in dead-end positions, systematically devaluing the labor of the working class. People can tell when they are being fucked over and treated as if they are expendable, and they don’t respond well to it. When your life sucks due to a lack of funds and you can't connect the dots, you can't pay a security deposit, you can't fix your car, you can't go back to school even though you want to, that's wasted human potential. Time, work, effort, and creativity are the things that our world is made of. Right now the corporate machine is devouring human life and shitting it into the ocean, and nobody is even saying anything about it. The great lie sold to the working class by the elite in this country is that the market forces of Capitalism will naturally and necessarily create the perfect meritocracy and by extension the perfect civil society. This lie is projected to the individual as "Work hard for your masters and you will be recognized and rewarded with your very own piece of the wealthiest society in human history." It's a perfect swindle, designed to make ordinary people identify with wealth that they don't have. Workers compete for their place in the paycheck stream by putting on appearances and throwing each other under the bus instead of actually working, managers are forced to cut labor costs and encourage high turnover instead of training and motivating existing employees, executives outsource, subcontract, and issue ever-more demanding corporate standards without regard to human life or dignity, and everybody blames the person immediately below or above them for the shitty state of things. THERE ARE BETTER MODELS. Social science has come a long way. THERE ARE THINGS THAT CAN BE DONE. I know what some of those things are but not all of them. I am not a scientist, I am a writer. My main job is to point out how full of shit everyone is. But there are people developing kickass solutions to the things that are making human life suck, and you need to listen to those people. The only people who are definitely wrong are the ones saying that the current system is fine and we don't need to do anything, or worse, that giving more money and power to the corporations is the answer.  The corporations, as long as they have the unrestricted freedom to do so, will always find creative ways to staff their buildings that are cheaper than hiring and developing long-term employees who are paid a good salary. The corporations created this backassward world of ours, now the people will have to do something to change it. A simple place to start would be taking seriously the notion that everyone who has a full time job deserves at least an economy-class ticket to a decent life that offers some degree of choice and autonomy. Say, enough income to comfortably rent an apartment, stock the fridge, and finance a preowned car. You could accomplish this by creating a good federal minimum wage that is indexed against housing costs, alongside a robust social safety net and other worker protections such as standardizing work contracts so that employees who desire full-time employment or consistent hours have some guarantee that their expectations will be fulfilled. That's not really a lot to ask. All the modern western democracies do this, even ones that do dumb shit all the time like Great Britain and Australia. Can we be smarter than Australia, the country that elected Tony Abbott? I guess time will tell.

I hope things get better for the working people of Coeur d’ Alene, and I plan to come back to this area for Barter Faire and shit next year. But I’m not going to spend the rest of my life fighting the impossible uphill battle that it would be to try to bring socioeconomic justice to North Idaho. I hate cops. I hate cops hate cops hate cops. I haaaate cooooops. I’m getting the fuck out of here. I need to get out while I’m ahead and try to make some real money somewhere else. I leave on Saturday. The Desert Cruiser is fully outfitted. See you on the other side.

JAMIE

[junker-town]

Tony Clark took a necessary stand against MLB collusion

Clark showed that the MLBPA won’t be standing by as league owners try to suppress player salaries.

There are two years remaining in Major League Baseball’s collective bargaining agreement with its players, but a growing rift between the two sides suggests negotiations are going to be bumpy.

The latest conflict stemmed from a conference call between reporters and Braves general manager Alex Anthopoulos. He told them, “Every day you get more information. And we’ve had time to connect with 27 of the clubs ... we had a chance to get a sense of what the other clubs are going to look to do in free agency, who might be available in trades.”

That set off alarm bells in the players union, which is wary of teams sharing information and suppressing the open market. Back when labor discord was the norm, owners colluded after each offseason from 1985 through 1987, and even outright refused to offer contracts to some of the biggest star free agents (including Kirk Gibson, and Hall of Famers Tim Raines, Paul Molitor, and Jack Morris). MLB eventually settled their collusion cases by paying $280 million to the players.

The collective bargaining agreement clearly states, “Players shall not act in concert with other Players and Clubs shall not act in concert with other Clubs.”

Tony Clark, a former player and the current executive director of the players association, issued a statement in response to Anthopoulos’ comments.

“The statements made by Braves GM Alex Anthopoulos call into question the integrity of the entire free-agent system,” Clark said. “The clear description of Club coordination is egregious, and we have launched an immediate investigation looking into the matter.”

As always, context matters. The Anthopoulos quote was an answer to a question. Some Braves beat reporters took the answer to mean he was gauging the trade market. Anthopoulos said as much in response to the MLBPA statement.

“In advance of the general managers meetings, I called around to clubs to explore the possibility of potential offseason trades. At no time during any of these calls was there discussion of individual free agents or the Braves’ intentions with respect to the free agent market,” he said. “To the extent I indicated otherwise during my media availability on Monday, I misspoke and apologize for any confusion.”

The investigation into Anthopoulos’s comments probably won’t lead to any sort of sanctions (maybe a sternly written letter), but that’s not the point. Clark was still right to issue the statement he did. He has to draw a line in the sand somewhere.

The owners have gotten the upper hand over players in labor negotiations for most of this century, curbing costs whenever possible. The last few CBAs have limited amateur spending, both domestically with the draft and internationally with caps on signing bonus pools.

The next thing for owners to limit is spending on major league players, something they’ve essentially accomplished the last two offseasons. The average of the league’s top 125 salaries dropped from $17.9 million to $17.8 billion, despite big new contracts handed out to elite players like Bryce Harper, Manny Machado, Mike Trout and Nolan Arenado last winter.

The average salary in MLB declined in each of the last two seasons, even thought the sport is bringing in record revenue, including a reported $10.3 billion last year. From 2014 to 2018, MLB revenue increased 14.4 percent but salaries went up just 7.2 percent. You can see why a divide between the two sides is growing.

Clark needed to say what he said because teams have become so used to having leverage that they’re no longer afraid of saying the quiet part out loud.

The Twins didn’t call up center fielder Byron Buxton in September 2018, which denied him enough service time to make him a free agent after 2023 instead of 2022. Minnesota general manager Thad Levine said at the time, “We wouldn’t be doing our jobs if we weren’t at least aware of service-time impacts on decisions we make.”

The Blue Jays — who lost 95 games in 2019 with an opening day payroll of $114.5 million, down 29 percent from the year before — made five deals at the trade deadline, and general manager Ross Atkins boasted that Toronto “turned 14 years of control into 42 years of control.”

Toronto didn’t call up Vladimir Guerrero Jr. this season until April 26, which was late enough to keep him from accruing a full season of service time in 2019 and delay his free agency by a year. The Braves did the same with Ronald Acuña Jr. in 2018, as did the Cubs with Kris Bryant in 2015. Amazingly, Bryant’s grievance with the team is still pending five seasons later.

Manipulation of service time not only pinches pennies, it also isn’t conducive to winning games. The very idea of not fielding your best players at any point is antithetical to competitiveness. Last February, amid a second consecutive cold free agent winter, Clark called out teams for not trying.

“This year a significant number of teams are engaged in a race to the bottom” he said. “This conduct is a fundamental breach of the trust between a team and its fans and threatens the very integrity of our game.”

Clark was right. Ten teams lost 90 games, and four 100-loss teams tied a dubious major league record.

This winter figures to be long, too. Outside of a few elite free agents, players will be waiting around a long time for deals.

The teams at the top of baseball’s financial food chain now treat the competitive balance tax threshold as a de facto salary cap, which doesn’t bode well for bidding wars. The Yankees and Dodgers have steered clear of the competitive balance tax threshold for two years, while the Red Sox want desperately to get under it, even if it means getting rid of one of J.D. Martinez or (gasp!) Mookie Betts.

Cubs owner Tom Ricketts groused about paying the competitive balance tax in interviews this offseason, saying, among other things, “It’s not how much you spend, it’s how much you win.”

Bill DeWitt, who purchased the Cardinals in 1995 for $150 million, did not sound all that eager to increase payroll this winter in an interview with Mark Saxon of The Athletic, saying, “The commentary that this is a wildly profitable business is misguided and wrong.”

The Cardinals were valued by Forbes this April at $2.1 billion.

With a dwindling number of teams actually competing, and even the contenders holding their noses at the idea of spending big, you can see why the players association is a little peeved right now.

Clark also needed to make his statement in part to educate the players.

The Rays’ opening day payroll of $60.6 million was the lowest in baseball, though they still managed to win 96 games and the AL wild card game. Gold Glove Award-winning outfielder Kevin Kiermaier celebrated said wild card win by telling reporters, “It’s always fun when you get to stick it to the man.”

Who did Kiermaier think “the man” actually is? Certainly not the wild card opponent A’s, whose $90 million payroll ranked just 26th in baseball. If anything, “the man” keeping the Rays’ payroll so absurdly low is owner Stuart Sternberg.

Players need to see the teams and owners for what they are, which is corporate thinkers who will do everything in their power to keep salaries low. That’s what corporations do, especially ones with antitrust protection.

Clark knows this, and he needs his players to know it. That’s what his statement was about.

[o-kapii]

Furever Home (Eruri)

This was a headcannon thought up by @erwinsalive I thought it was a cute idea so i decided to run with it (Thank you again for letting me write out this HC)! Just a fluffy Eruri story involving adorable animals and romance. I hope you enjoy! 

*****************************************************************************************************

Who needs an alarm when every morning at a quarter to 6 you have a wet tongue on your face and a cat affectionately kneading their claws into your forehead.

Letting out a sigh Erwin reached up plucked his cat Captain off his head and plopped him onto the bed and then gave his dog Tripod a quick scratch behind the ears.

“Morning guys, guess you’re hungry right” 

Tripod sat back in excitement wagging his tail, letting out an excited whimper, while licking his lips, the cat hopped onto the floor and trotted with his tail up to the kitchen.

Erwin pulled himself from the covers and reached his arm over his head to stretch, the movement still feeling empty without another set of fingers to interlock with. 

He walked into the kitchen and set a dish on the counter for Captain. Captain hoped on the counter, Erwin poured in his food and patted his back making Captain arch in approval and began eating his morning kibbles. Then he filled his dogs bowl below. 

“There you go Tripod, eat up boy” 

While the animals crunched loudly and content Erwin decided to start on his breakfast, brewing the coffee and a scrambling a few eggs. Once he was finished he looked over at Tripod and said the magic words.

‘Wanna go for a walk” his tone raising a pitch. 

Tripod burst into excitement as Erwin grabbed his leash off the hook.

“Tripod, Sit” 

On command the dog withheld his energy and sat waiting patiently for Erwin to one handedly clip the leash onto his collar. 

Once it was on his was a bundle of energy again as Erwin opened the door and his dog bound down the steps with a hobble.

Erwin let out a laugh “Easy there boy you’re going to trip over your front leg” 

Erwin had adopted Tripod from the shelter he volunteered at. He had come in after he was hit by a car, and unfortunately his left front leg was beyond repair and had to be amputated. The moment Erwin saw him he couldn’t help but feel a connection with him. 

Erwin had lost his arm during an freak accident on his deployment, the injury ended his military career and it caused him to go into a deep depression, that is until he found his love for animals and began dedicating his time to getting them new homes. 

Shortly after he rescued Captain, an all black cat that appeared on his back porch one day with a terrible eye injury and Erwin immediately took him to the vet. The vet was unable to save the eye but other than that the cat would make a full recovery... So Erwin took him in too.

Together the trio made quiet the team of misfits but they completed each other perfectly. There was only one thing missing.

Once Tripod and Erwin reached the park they set out into a slow jog, Tripod was able to get around well with only his three legs and Erwin was happy to have the workout partner. 

After a few jogs around the track it was getting close to 6:45 and Erwin needed to leave for work. 

He dropped off Tripod at home gave both cat and dog a loving pat then headed out on his way to the shelter.

****************************************************************************************************

“Levi! Get up!” Kuchel, his mother came into his bed room and swung open the blinds letting in the bright morning sun.

Levi let out a groan and flipped his pillow over his head to shield his eyes “What do you want” his voice came out muffled.

Kuchel grabbed the pillow and wacked him with it.

“I can’t find Ravioli!” She exclaimed frantically.

Ravioli was the family Chihuahua. 

Levi scoffed, “Calm down, he probably just found a family of rats to live with, I’m sure they accepted him as one of their own”. Levi wasn’t exactly a fan of the quivering little rodent-dog that barked at everything that moved.

“Oh Levi please, I have to go open the shop can you please go out and look for him?” Kuchel’s plea was laced with worry.

“Yeah alright i’ll go look” As much as Levi didn’t care for the thing he didn’t want something bad to have happened to him, so he got out of bed, threw on some clothes and headed out the door, a bag of treats and his leash in tow. 

After about an hour of whistling, calling his name, and shaking the bag of treats to no avail, he decided he would check some local shelters hoping a good Samaritan would have brought him in.

*****************************************************************************************************

“Good morning Mr. Smith!” 

“Good morning Maggie” Erwin replied and smiled at the chipper lady that worked at the front desk. She had a round face with rosy cheeks, short blonde hair, and always in a good mood. 

Erwin began heading to the back to make his morning rounds.

“Oh, Erwin I almost forgot someone came in right when we opened, they had found a Chihuahua running on the streets not too far from here! Poor litlte guy must have gotten out, he hasn’t stopped shaking since hes gotten here”.

“Has he been scanned for a microchip?” Erwin asked hopeful that the owner had registered the chip and could be reunited.

“Yes we did, but nothing came up” Maggie said sadly. 

“I see” Erwin said disappointed. “I’ll go do my rounds then go in to check on him”

“Thank you Erwin if anyone can get him to calm down it’s you” Maggie said kindly.

Erwin nodded and headed to the back instantly greeted by loud barking and chain gate doors being slammed on by hyper paws. 

There were a few dogs that could be let out in the yard together, which Erwin was thankful for it made it much easier to clean when they were out playing in the back.

After he hosed off the grounds, replaced their beds, and filled the food and water bowls he rounded the pups back up in hope that they would have a chance at a new home today. 

He knew every dog by name and as he put them back in their kennel he gave them some good pats and love.

He now was curios to go check out the new dog that had been brought in, the nervous Chihuahua.

He was still in a small kennel in the front separate from the rest of the dogs awaiting an evaluation. 

“Hey there little guy” Erwin said calmly as he approached the cage. The poor thing sat in the corner shaking looking at Erwin with big round scared eyes.

Another employee named Karen came out from around the corner, she usually worked with the cats and exotics. “Be careful, he’ll nip ya, you might need a towel if you plan on taking him out” 

“I think i’ll be okay if i’m slow, thank you Karen” Erwin said with a smile.

Karen shrugged and smiled “Suit yourself, animal whisperer” She winked and went back to handle the quarantined cats. 

Erwin went back to working with the Chihuahua. He slowly unlatched the cage door and opened it, he took out some treats from  his pocket and began coaxing the small pup to calm him down. 

After a good 10 minutes the dog began to come out of his shell, he stood from the back of the cage and slowly approached a treat Erwin had placed inside, giving it a curious sniff then slowly eating it, when he was done crunching he glanced up sniffing asking for more.

“Ah you liked that didn’t you? Well you have to come a little closer to get the next one” Erwin said gently and carefully reached his hand up with a treat and placed it towards the edge of the cage. 

The dog was apprehensive and studied the situation but gave into his craving and came forward to eat the treat. 

Now that he was close enough to the entrance of the cage Erwin raised his hand, receiving a low growl from the pup in response but Erwin has learned his hand with animal behavior and noticed that even though he growled he still put his head down and got a tad closer to his hand. Watching the dogs behavior carefully he went in further this time patting the dogs head. He was surprised when he actually got a small lick on the back of his hand and he felt comfortable enough to scoop the pup in his arm without causing any distress to the dog or putting himself at risk. 

Once the pup was safely in his arm he felt a small tail wagging against the back of his arm. 

“See you just needed some patience didn’t you?” Erwin praised using his thumb to rub against the dogs side.

“Erwin can you please come up to the front desk? Thank you!” Maggie’s voice sounded over the intercom. 

*****************************************************************************************************

Levi had used his phone to look up some shelters near by and decided to start with the closest one. 

After walking a few more blocks he found the building and could already hear dogs barking as he walked up. He entered and a little bell sounded over his head. The place smelled much cleaner than he was anticipating. 

A cheerful lady wearing pink scrubs with kittens on it peaked her head up and smiled he blonde hair bouncing with her movements “Hello there! What can we help you with?” 

Levi approached the desk “My mom lost her dog this morning, he’s a little long haired chihuahua with a blue col..” 

Before he could even finish speaking the lady, her name tag said Maggie, picked up the intercom and called someone named Erwin to the front. 

“Just a moment I think we have some good news for you!” Maggie said excitedly.

Her energy was making Levi a little uncomfortable so he simply nodded his head and went to take a seat on the wooden bench near the door. 

A few moments later the sounds of dogs barking got louder and diminished again as someone walked through the swinging door, raising his head Levi’s eyes met with a tall, muscular man with blonde hair and bright blue eyes, carrying... Ravioli. 

Something about the sight of a strong man carrying his small mutt didn’t quite seem to mix but it left him in a trance none the less. 

The man flashed Levi a bright smile then turned his attention to Maggie.

“You needed me?” He said kindly.

“I sure did! this young man is looking for a Chihuahua” Maggie gestured toward Levi who was finally able to pull himself out of his daze.

Young man? Levi thought to himself. Sure he didn’t look his age, but he was a 28 year old man. 

“Tsk thats Ravioli, I’m surprised you were able to pick him up without losing a finger” Levi quickly noticed that state of the mans physique, and realized that maybe that was a bit insensitive, “he’s not usually good with strangers” he quickly added hoping that made up for his comment.

Not taken back in the least Erwin smiled and approached the shorter man handing him his dog “Ravioli huh?” Erwin let out a small chuckle, “he’s a good boy, just needed someone to go slow with him, earn his trust, you should get him microchipped so if he gets out again someone can contact you” Erwin suggested. 

Not yet ready for this man to leave his presence he asked “Do you do it?” mentally cursing himself from the slight eagerness to his tone, 

“No, Unfortunately I’m not able to but i’m sure our on staff vet would love to assist you, I can take you back into a room and they’ll be in shortly if you’d like?” 

“Yeah, sure” Levi said regaining his composure and let Erwin lead the way.

Erwin opened the door to a small room with an exam table, a counter and sink, and two chairs. “Go ahead and have a seat i’ll let them know you’re here” Erwin said politely and left the room. 

Levi sat down with Ravioli on his lap taking in the small room to try to distract himself. On the counter there were jars filled with cotton and gauze, a few spray bottles one with blue-green liquid that said Rocal and another with light-blue liquid that said Chlorhexidine. On the walls there was a few posters of cats and dogs and different stages of tooth decay. 

About 10 minutes passed and a curt knock came on the door and a woman wearing a white coat entered. Her red hair was pulled back into a ponytail. 

“Good morning! i’m Dr. Hange” She held out a hand and Levi took it surprised by her grip, “And this little guy must be Ravioli” She grinned down at the dog.

Ravioli tensed. 

“Please put him on the table” The doctor instructed as she pulled on sterile gloves then turned around to go through the cabinets, pulling out a needle like applicator, carefully she pulled back the plastic. 

“I can take it from here” She gently took the hold of Ravioli and though he seemed nervous he behaved. 

“Should be just a quick pinch” She maneuvered to hold the loose skin on the back of his neck and with a swift motion injected the chip.

Ravioli let out a shriek. “Now, now that wasn’t so bad it’s already over!” Hange soothed. “Now all we have to do is enter some personal contact information to link with the chip and you’ll be all set!” 

Levi nodded and picked up Ravioli letting the doctor lead him back up to the front. The moment he turned the corner his eyes met blue, his gaze trapped.

“Hey Maggie! He just needs to enter the information and he’s good to go, Have a nice day er...” Hange trailed off.

“Levi” His attention once again snapped back from under him.

‘Levi” Hange repeated and headed to the back. 

“Oh lets see here...” Maggie began. “This system always likes to play tricks on me” 

“Do you need me to help Maggie?” Erwin asked walking over behind her.

Levi’s heart began racing. He was just across the counter. 

“I just need some help getting to where I enter the information” She said.

Erwin took control of the mouse and leaned in. You could see Maggie blush. I don’t blame you Levi thought as he noticed the pink creeping on her cheeks.

“There we go” Erwin said after a second. “Now I can show yo-”

He was cut off by a very frustrated man with shaggy blonde hair coming to the front, he was even taller then Erwin. “Erwin can you please hold this cat while i administer a pill, he’s the devil when he needs to be medicated!” He stormed out without waiting to hear a response. 

Erwin glanced back at Maggie.

“You go on ahead Erwin i can take it from here” 

“Alright then Maggie” Erwin eye’s locked onto Levi’s and Levi felt his breath catch in his throat. 

“Have a nice day Levi I’m glad you two were able to be reunited” Erwin smiled holding Levi’s gaze for a beat too long then dismissed himself to help the disheveled man with the cat.

Levi watched him as he left ignoring the pang of disappointment he felt and diverted his attention back to Maggie.

“Alright lets see here, Name, address, phone number, and place of work!” 

Levi began reciting his information when he got to his place of work Maggie’s eyes lit up.

“Ackerman’s Legacy? The lovely little cafe on Main?” 

“Yeah thats the one, my mom’s the owner, i help her out” 

“Ive stopped in before its a lovely place your mom should be proud, well you’re all set Levi have a great day” Maggie chirped.

“Thanks... you too” Levi noticed some business cards on the counter he grabbed one and headed out the door. 

*****************************************************************************************************

“Thanks Erwin I couldn’t have done it without you, you manage to do with one arm that I couldn’t do even if i had 3, this is why i’m a dog person”

“It’s not a problem Mike, by the way hows that rescue of yours doing?” 

The man named Mike huffed out a long breath “He’s better than i could imagine, he’s opened up and began playing with the other dogs, with what he went through i’m surprised he bounced back so fast he was found in such awful shape” 

“I will never understand how anyone can be cruel to animals” Erwin lamented “What are you going to name him?”

“I was thinking about Titan” Mike replied.

Erwin hummed, “That seems fitting to me” 

“So I hear that the Chihuahua found earlier had been reunited”.

“Yeah, the owner was who you pulled me away from” Erwin’s thoughts began to wander to the small man.

“Well it’s a good thing to see, after so many animals being dumped on our doorstep i’m glad at least this one had a happy ending” Mike said.

Erwin’s mind was too distracted all he could give was a simple ‘Agreed”.

***************************************************************************************************

A few days later Erwin got an Urgent call from Karon saying that a dog had been tied to the fence at the shelter. Erwin’s heart dropped and immediately got dressed. He apologized to tripod that their jog was going to have to wait until evening as he let the dog out to quickly use the restroom and patted both Tripod and Captain on the head and rushed to the Shelter. 

He pulled up within minutes and saw the dog standing with Karon wagging her tail.

“Sorry to call you in on your day off” She apologized.

‘Its no problem at all i assure you” Erwin kneeled down to examine the dog. She was an extremely thin pitbull mix, a pink collar slightly imbedded into her neck, and still all she wanted to do was lick your face, the sight broke Erwin’s heart. 

“I’ll call Hange” He said.

They spent the afternoon giving her a flea bath, taking blood samples, and removing the imbedded collar. 

By the time they had her settled in her run for the night it was already going on 6.

“Thanks again for the help Erwin” Karon said “Have a good night i’ll see you tomorrow” Karon got in her car and drove off, Erwin said goodnight to Hange and headed home himself. 

He pulled up and walked in, he was instantly greeted by a tongue and a wagging tail.

“Hey buddy ready for that jog i promised you?” Erwin commanded him to sit, as he latched the leash then the pair headed off to the park. 

*****************************************************************************************************

Levi had gone home early to let Ravioli out, his mom  was making some orders for some nice matcha tea to be delivered from Japan and had to stay late.

He decided to get some exercise out of it, if Ravioli got tired he could just pick him up to jog. 

He headed down towards the park, stopping more times then he’d like for Ravioli to sniff whatever the hell he was sniffing, finally they made it and he began to stretch.

Before Levi had a chance to react Ravioli bolted from under him pulling the leash out from Levi’s unexpected hands.

“Shit!” Levi began sprinting after the dog.

Suddenly he saw a larger dog running towards Ravioli and heard someone calling after it. 

Scared that Ravioli was going to get devoured he was surprised when both dogs stopped, ears perked, tails slowly wagging sniffing each others snouts, then sniffing each others butts. 

“Disgusting” Levi commented as he approached and noticed the larger dog only had three legs.

The voice he heard faintly earlier approached. “Tripod whats gotten into you?!”

As the man came into view Levi’s heart was about to explode.

It was Erwin. Levi had not for a second forgotten that name. 

“Erwin seemed to look at the dogs first, realization coming to his face ‘Ravio-?” he began to say then looked ahead to where Levi was standing a few feet away.

“What a pleasant surprise” Erwin said. 

“You’re one to talk I thought my dog was about to be eaten” Levi replied nervously, trying to hide it with annoyance. 

Erwin chuckled “ I apologize about that Tripod here usually is so well behaved, Ravioli’s become quite the escape artist”

“You’re telling me” Levi said deadpan, “I’ve never seen you out here before” 

‘Ah, I’m usually here in the mornings, but we had an emergency this morning and it consumed most of the day” Erwin explained.

“What kind of an emergency” Levi raised his eyebrow.

“A negelcted dog was left tied to our fence, an unfortunate event but not uncommon...She was in some pretty bad shape, Malnourished and her collar had grown into her skin...”

“Damn, thats awful” Levi didn’t know what else to say. He hated pointless suffering. Animals were so innocent. 

“It was” Erwin agreed ‘But we have her recouping i’m sure she’ll be adoptable in a few days, she’s sweet as can be” 

‘Good to hear”

Levi felt a mosquito land on his neck and he swatted at it.

“It’s getting pretty late, we should get going, sorry to hold you up Levi, c’mon Tripod” Erwin smiled and turned to leave.

“Wait” The words came out before Levi could stop them.

Erwin halted and turned back to face Levi, “Yes?” 

“Want to meet for coffee or something sometime tomorrow?” Levi looked down hoping the redness of his cheeks wasn’t visible in the low evening light.  

“I have work, but i get off at 5...” Erwin began

“Thats perfect” Levi cut in, “Ackermans Legacy, it’s on Main, just come in when you’re done” turning on his heel he scooped up Ravioli and set out in a speed walk.

Erwin starred dumb founded as the small man scurried away a smile forming on his lips. 

“See you tomorrow, Levi” He said knowing that the man couldn’t hear.

Both men went to sleep that night with butterflies in their stomach.

*****************************************************************************************************

Great I was so nervous i barely got any sleep Levi thought as he looked at himself in the mirror noticing black circles under his eyes.

He still managed to cut his hair and slap on some cologne, realizing it would wear off mostly before Erwin got there but thinking it was good to not seem like he was trying TOO hard. Whats gotten into me? Relax.

5 o’clock rolled around and the last couple patrons left, he completely forgot his mom usually closed early on Monday’s, he had told her to stay home and rest that he had the shop covered, she appreciated his gesture but became suspicious when he wanted to bring Ravioli along for the day. 

Levi was frantic and to stall his mind he began cleaning, the stock shelves always got the worst dust and when customers were in he couldn’t clean like he’d like to.

He heard the bell sound from the front of the cafe and his heart raced.

He got down from the ladder, pulled off his dust mask and walked up to the front. 

In all his glory Erwin was standing in the doorway, wearing  a white T-shirt that clung to his chest just right and some old blue jeans. 

Holy shit.

Out of nowhere Ravioli burst through barking and running up to Erwin. 

Erwin knelt down to pat the little dog “Hey there Ravioli” 

“Damnit, Ravioli leave him alone” Levi shooed the pup gently away and the dog went to lay down on a small dog bed in the corner. 

“I took him off my moms hands today, its her day off” Levi explained.

“Ah i see, well that was nice of you” Erwin glanced around and noticed no else was in, “Are you closed?”

“Oh, yeah, i forgot she closed early today” Levi shrugged trying to play it off, suddenly feeling like he dragged this man into a much more serious date then he was probably anticipating, if he was anticipating it to be a date at all. 

“Well then, we’ll have some privacy to get to know each other at least” Erwin gave a reassuring smile.

He’s okay with this just roll with it.

“Would you like anything to drink?” 

“I’ll let you pick i’m not too acquainted with tea i’m sure your suggestions would be much better than mine” 

Levi headed to the back and picked out his favorite black tea leaves, steeping it just the right amount of time he brought them out some cups on a tray with the kettle. 

“This is Assam tea, its a type of black tea” Levi said pouring them each a cup.

Erwin took a seat where his cup was placed and blew gently on the liquid before taking a sip, he savored it thoughtfully for a moment. 

“This is quite exquisite, i’m surprised so much bold flavor is in tea, i’m a bit embarrassed to admit that the only time I drink tea is when I have a cold and its usually Nestle chamomile” Erwin blushed a bit. 

“I have my work cut out for me” Levi mused. 

“I’m afraid so” Erwin said sheepishly. 

“So whats your story?” Levi leaned back against his chair draping his arm over the back.

“Already diving in deep are we? Well lets see, I guess I should start by addressing the white elephant in the room” He cleared his throat. “I was a commander in the military, we were on a mission over seas. My men were given false information which was unfortunately relayed to me...” Erwin’s face went solemn. “I led them right into an ambush, landmines were unknowingly covering the area we were traveling through, my tank team rolled over the first one setting off multiple others, 5 of my men died, I was foolish to rely so heavily on word of mouth, but i felt i had no other options”. 

“How terrible” Levi was bad with sympathy but he couldn’t imagine what this man carried on his back.

“Yes, it was...After the incident I was obviously forced to retire, it sent me into a deep depression, everything happened at once, losing my arm, my job, my fiance” Erwin sighed rubbing his temples.

“Fiance?” Levi raised his eyebrow.

“Yes I was engaged before my first deployment, but with so much work needing to be done it was years before i would have a chance to actually get married, finally the unfitting ending of my carear came and I figured I could at least settle down” Erwin let out a humorless laugh “But My finace had been cheating on me with a friend of mine, needless to say that relationship is dead and gone” 

“Damn” Levi drummed his fingers.

“Too much?” Erwin forced a crooked smile. 

“No, I just... what pulled you through all of that?” 

“My therapist recommended I start doing more with my time, helping out in the community”

“Why a shelter? I can think of a much better way to volunteer then to spend my days picking up dog shit” Levi sipped his tea.

Erwin seemed a little caught off guard by Levi’s crass comment but simply smiled and continued “I saw a sign for a local shelter being under staffed and I took the position on a whim, it’s changed my life, animals really have a way of connecting with you... and soon after Tripod came in and we just seemed like the perfect fit” Erwin took his turn to take a sip before adding ‘He’s certainly made the house less lonely”.

Levi admired the way his eyes lit up when he spoke about animals, he had a truly kind nature, what an idiot his fiance must have been.

“But enough about me, now it’s your turn Levi, tell me about yourself” Erwin sat back as Levi leaned forward.

“Well not much to say, I grew up in a less then pleasant part of town with my mom, my dad was never in the picture, I have no idea who he is, but from the time I could work I started helping my mom taking any job I could mostly custodial work for local businesses and schools. My mom worked as a CNA so together we were able to get by, eventually I started getting some savings together behind her back, I opened this shop one summer as a surprise to her since it was always her dream, and well i’ve been here ever since”. 

Erwin eyes were gleaming “Thats very honorable of you Levi”

Levi cut in “Not really, in between that time I was making some money on the side, those things weren’t so honorable” He looked down. “You’re not the only one that carries death on your back, I’ve had my share. Though i was never directly the cause, it comes back down to me all the same” 

Erwin sat quietly giving Levi time to process.

“Ive never told anyone that” He spoke quietly.

“I’m glad you feel like you can confide in me” Erwin said gently.

“It’s getting late maybe we should head out” Levi stood and took the dishes to the back and placed them in the sink. Shit why did I get so deep? 

Erwin tried to hide the disappointment from his face at Levi’s abruptness. 

After Levi reappeared he began turning off the shop lights and hooking Ravioli up to his leash. Erwin walked out beside him.

“Levi i’m sorry if i’ve made you say anything you didn-” Erwin went to apologize.

“No it’s not your fault I just need to go, thanks for meeting me here tonight” Levi couldn’t even look up at the man.

“Do you want me to escort you home?”

“What? You don’t think a man and his Chihuahua can handle themselves, tsk I walked home alone before” 

“Very well” Erwin said reluctantly, “see you around Levi”

“Ya... see you” 

*****************************************************************************************************

Erwin walked in the door sluggishly. Greeted by his entourage he barley gave them a passing pat. He let Tripod out in the back to do his business then went back in to fix them dinner. 

He couldn’t help but feel guilty for Levi’s breakdown, he had said so many dark personal things about himself that Levi might have been pressured to reveal things he wasn’t ready. Erwin felt awful, the mans face was so hard to read, his emotions are so hard to crack that Erwin might have crossed some lines without even realizing it. 

He got himself ready to sleep, drug himself to bed accompanied by two worried animals and as he curled in the blankets he was planning on how to make it up to Levi. 

The next morning Erwin got back into his routine. It was right at dawn and he was at the park ready to jog with Tripod. He knelt down to tighten the velcro on his shoes that were hidden by faux laces.

“I knew you’d have velcro tennis shoes” He heard a voice say in front of him.

Erwin’s eyes shot up as they saw Levi approaching, little Ravioli in his arms. 

“Levi” Erwin began, i’m sor-” 

“Don’t worry about it, I acted like a bitch, you didn’t do anything wrong I guess i just wasn’t prepared for how my brain just revealed everything on its own”. Levi shrugged and turned away from the mans gaze.

Erwin stood back up, waiting for Levi to speak, while Tripod trotted over to Levi wagging his tail. Levi reached down with his free hand and scratched the pup behind his ears.

‘So I was thinking I’d start training with you in the mornings” Levi blushed slightly, “If thats alright with you” 

Erwin raised his eye brows “Yeah? Of course, i’d like that”

Levi gave him a small smirk, probably the closest he’s ever gotten to a smile and the two stretched together then began their jog.

*****************************************************************************************************

As the days progressed the pair’s athleticism was really drawing quite a spectacle with the early morning park goers. 

Poor little Ravioli didn’t make the cut and had to start sitting the morning trainings out, but Tripod stuck around as the two men challenged each other each day.

They even got a little cheeky, Erwin with his one arm push up’s, Levi using Erwin’s torso to do vertical sit-ups, they brought out the best in each other.

Finally the day came that Levi was waiting for, Erwin looked all flustered one morning as Levi approached.

“What’s wrong with you did you drink too much coffee? It’s a natural laxative you know” Levi put his hands on his hips.

Erwin blushed at the comment regarding his bowls and cleared his throat “it’s umm not that I was just-”

“Spit it out” 

“Would you be my...-”

Levi rolled his eyes “Erwin shut up and kiss me, it’s yes and you know it quit wasting time on useless words” 

Erwin stood dumbfounded as Levi crossed his arms.

‘Well?” Came Levi’s impatient reply.

In one quick motion Erwin closed the distance between then planting a firm kiss on Levi’s lips and pressing his palm under his chin, Levi graciously returned the kiss hungrily.

“How many times have you interrupted me since we met?” Erwin said smirking against Levi’s lips

��It’s only when you’re about to say pointless things” Levi nipped at Erwin’s bottom lip and wrapped his arms around the taller mans neck.

When the two finally pulled apart whistles and clapping could be heard in the background. The two pulled apart looking across the park at a small group of recognizable people standing around cheering them on. It was the group that had begun watching them every morning.

To be polite Erwin held up his hand to them in a wave blushing a deep red. 

‘Tsk, they need to mind their own business” Levi said and looked away flustered.

“i don’t know i think it was kind of special having an audience” Erwin smirked finding Levi’s embarrassment cute. 

“Lets just work out already” Levi grabbed Tripod’s leash from Erwins hand and began jogging, Erwin let out a small laugh and started moving to catch up. 

*****************************************************************************************************

A few weeks later, Levi moved into Erwin’s house. He had adopted the pitbull mix that had been tied up at the shelter, he named her Isabell. She got along great with Tripod... they’re still working on Captain. 

Ackerman Legacy became dog friendly, offering watering bowls and new outside seating arrangements. 

And Erwin can’t remember the last time his house had ever been so clean.

He stood in the doorway of his home relishing in the fresh scent that emitted from the cleaned space.

“Hey, take off your shoes, don’t come tracking dog shit on these floors” Levi scolded through a dust cloth from the other room.

Erwin smiled to himself and slipped off his shoes.

It was good to be home. 

[forsythe-pendleton-jones-iv-blog]

Float- Jughead Jones Fic (Part Three)

A/N: Heres chapter three! Sorry they've been rolling out slow. I promise the story starts picking up speed soon! This is not proofread.

Words: 1443

Part One

Part Two

     I sped back to the drive in, parking my car just outside the lot before sprinting down to the far corner. The steady thump of music gave way to the sound of rowdy cheering. Amongst the serpents, I felt safe. While my brother was in no way an important figure, and they didn't have a code or anything so melodramatic, the smell of booze and gruff faces just felt...normal. Any other day, I'd watch until the sun rose, when even the drunkest of drinkers finally passed out, and the kegs lay empty, strewn across the lot with a haphazard carelessness.

Instead, I looked around for my brother. Pushing through the groups of people, I found him leaning against a wall, an unopened can of beer in his hand. Immediately he sets the can down, walking towards me with an expectant look upon his face.

"What're you doing here?" He asks, "You know how I feel about you going to these things, it's no place for someone like you." I send a glare his way. "It's no place for my beloved sister who I care about very much." He quickly corrects.

"Nice try, güey, I didn't come here for some good ol 'family' bonding with your snakes, maybe next time." I retort, walking towards the edge of the lot. Joaquin follows, running his hands in his hair nervously.

"Then why are you here? Can’t say i’m not glad to see you but..." He questions, looking at me quizzically.

"Earlier, you offered me a place to stay, and I'm not sick of my car, but if that offer still stands..." I trail off, maybe this wasn't such a good idea...

"It does." He says, a small smile growing on his face. "Let’s go," He turns to his motorcycle before pausing. "Oh, do you want to ride on the back?"

I raise an eyebrow. "Without a helmet? Wow Jo, the gang life's really making you reckless. I'll take my car, where I have roughly a 70% chance of not becoming the next Jason Blossom." I walk off to my car, the low rumble of the motorcycle following behind me.

-

The apartment was nice, surprisingly so. Big windows and small deck in the front with a fire escape connected to the kitchen window, which was currently being propped open with what looked like my old biology textbook. The furniture was all clean, modern even. It was certainly used, but not in a ratty way. It just felt lived in. Homely. The plants on every available surface paired with the sleek decor made the entire place very...Jo.

Jo hangs up his jacket, walking down a hallway before returning with a blanket and some pillows. I go to grab them, assuming I'm going to be on the couch. The bags under his eyes reach down further, clawing their way into his cheeks. I hadn't noticed before, but he was looking suspiciously exhausted and pallid. "Nah, you've been sleeping in a car for god knows how long. I'll suffer for one night." He says, jerking the blankets away from me. The steely grey eyes soften a bit, a small frown appearing on his face. “You know you don't have to stay out there." He adds, gesturing out the window, "I meant it when I said you had a home here. I can buy one of those pull out couches." He was only half joking at this point, concern etched into his features.

"You're being nice. Why?" I ask. I'm choosing to ignore his proposition for now. There's no way in hell I can stay with him. I love my brother, and I appreciate staying at his house but I wasn't looking to burden him any more than he does to himself. Hell, I should be the one asking if he has been okay. Truth is, we had always been siblings who just co-existed. Acquaintances and best, strangers at worst. The amount of sudden attentiveness he was showing was unsettling, but not entirely unwelcome. "How did you afford this place?" I asked.

"You're my baby sister. Why wouldn’t I be nice?" He says. The words echoed around my head. He looks down, before mumbling a jumbled mess of words. Clearing his throat, he looks me in the eyes before stating "I do some work for the serpents. It’s no big deal." I didn't expect a different answer, the tattoo emblazoned on his forearm really spoke for itself. Nodding, I walk towards the hallway.

"I'm less than a month younger than you, you do realize that, yeah?" I call over my shoulder. Jo may not have been my brother in a traditional sense, his mother had left my father, because of my mother. Makes us half-siblings. She couldn't take the fact he had cheated on her and had another child, so she left hers behind. The logic was truly astounding. Such an astute mind, clearly. Though it made no difference to me. The past should remain just that. The past.

"Enough to make you my baby sister, now get into that bed before I kick you out." He jokes, flopping onto the couch and shutting off the lamp, plunging the world into darkness.

---------

I awoke to the sound of a smoke alarm, and a frantic flapping sound. Shooting out of the bed, I grabbed my stuff and I sprint down the kitchen to find a sheepish Jo surrounded by what looks like eight (stained) towels and a couple burnt slices of bacon, and some unrecognizable burnt mass.

"Wow Jo. I didn't realize you were trying to become a chef, but pro-tip. Once something starts smelling burnt it means you turn the heat off." I smirked, grabbing the towels and stuffing them into my bag.  

"I've gathered, but I was just trying to make us breakfast for once." He looks at me quizzically, an eyebrow raised, "What're you doing with my towels exactly?" He asks, following me towards the door while he shrugs on his jacket.

"Going to a laundromat, they need to be cleaned and frankly, we need breakfast." I reply, walking down the staircase.

He just sighed, ruffling my hair before jogging forwards and starting his motorcycle. As I walk towards my car, he pulls ahead of me and tosses a helmet. Raising an eyebrow, I take in the bike. Dark colours, garish decals, loud and decidedly not my scene.

"You coming?" He asks, pointing to the seat with a lopsided grin.

"Hell yeah I am." I jump on the bike grabbing the helmet hanging precariously off the handles, grinning as he speeds off. Trees whip by us and the wind howls, but mostly I'm just concerned about how bony Jo is. He was always a bony kid, sure. Parents who oftentimes didn't have any food to put on the table caused that for both of us, but I assumed once he moved out he would've been doing better. Instead he seemed to be doing worse. Pulling into the familiar parking lot, we walk into the diner and grab the stools I had now become accustomed to.

Ordering some food, I turned to Jo who looked somewhat uncomfortable. "Listen, I don't think you should stay in your car anymore, it's not safe with a killer on the loose." He states, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"Worried I'll pull a Blossom on you?" I joke, gripping the coffee mug tightly.

"You shouldn't joke about that." Joaquin says, crossing his arms.

"I can't help that sardonic humour is my way of relating to the world." I reply, the smile on my face fades. "Listen Jo, I appreciate the offer but no way in hell am I living with you right now. You've got enough on your plate and I'm not adding to that," Lie. "And it just wouldn't be the best thing for either of us right now." I finish, looking over his shoulder at the door.

"Just,” He sighs, eyes flitting around the room, ”Promise you'll visit. I don't want to lose you, like we did with dad." He says, taking a bite of his pancakes.

I nod and we settle into a comfortable silence. The familiar jingle of the bells brings my eyes to the door, where Veronica and Kevin Keller, the sheriff's son, walking in with a smile on their faces. Immediately, Jo's eyes fall to Kevin, blinking before turning and looking downcast. He stiffens, then looks at me before saying quietly "We should go to the laundromat, there's one right by my place."

I internally groan, but follow anyways. The trees whipping by us didn't seem to do much this time. It just felt mundane.

Tags: @thatsadbreakfastclub @thekillingquill @tinytephrite